


Reckless Abandon

by delightful_fear



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, BDSM, Bondage, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Post-War, Really Not That Much BDSM, Slow Burn, Vanilla Sex Mostly, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-08-07 20:49:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 93,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16415708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightful_fear/pseuds/delightful_fear
Summary: All work and no play have made Harry a very dull boy.  To shake things up a bit, the Weasley brothers give him a gag gift for Christmas: a dozen sessions at a brothel.A week later, Harry is stripped down to his underwear, nervous and excited, waiting for the man he picked from a shadowy picture.  But when he arrives and pulls back the hood of his robe, Harry is shocked to see it is Draco Malfoy...a man he hasn’t seen in years.Draco explains his rules and gives Harry a choice.  Stay or go...





	1. Chapter 1

“Woah...no more for me.” Harry rushed to cover his glass with his hand before Ron could add more fire whiskey to it. 

Ron groaned as he went on to top up Charlie’s, George’s and his own. “You’ve only had one.”

Harry leaned closer to object. “After eating a huge Christmas dinner!”. He waved towards the dining room, where the rest of the family was still chatting and laughing over coffee. 

George took a long sip from his glass, and shook his head. His brown eyes twinkled with good humour and intoxication. “We all ate a lot. That’s no excuse. And Charlie and I are older than you...”

Before Charlie could jump in, Harry held up his hands in surrender. “OK, OK...perhaps the Potter bloodline isn’t as good as the Weasley one for devouring holiday meals and drinking to excess.”

“I don’t think it’s that at all.” Ron finished off his drink, definitely showing signs of being at the happy drunk stage. “I think you are simply exhausted from work and all those bloody charity functions.” 

George nodded in agreement. “All work and no play makes Harry a dull boy.” Although two years older than Harry, he still ran around like he had at Hogwarts, enthused over new ideas.

Harry sighed. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day, and he barely had time to sleep a few hours a night before he was getting up again for work. 

Charlie smirked. “I have an idea. Ron, is Dad’s computer running?” The muggle machine was a little touch and go, being powered with magic instead of electricity and the charm to connect it to WiFi a bit unreliable. 

Ron nodded as he shared a big grin with his brother. He led them into their father’s workshop area, and he soon had the machine on. They crowded around as Charlie typed on the keyboard. 

Harry could hardly catch of glimpse of the screen, with tall Ron and George in the way. He felt a bit queasy, not liking the chuckles and odd comments he was hearing. The brothers, when a bit drunk, could push each other further than they would go on their own. Doing something to bug Harry, practically their adopted brother, made them even crazier in their ideas. 

“Oh yes! That’s perfect!”

“One time, or a package?”

“He needs more than one session. Have you seen him?”

They were laughing hard, nudging shoulders, not letting Harry get too near. Finally, Charlie clicked a few last keys and they all stepped back to let Harry see the screen, watching him closely for his reaction. Barely suppressed sniggers and chuckles came periodically from all of them. 

Harry had a computer at home, a gift from Arthur, but he had hardly found time to play around with it much. He knew the basics. 

Now he stared at the screen, trying to see what the Weasley boys had done. It was on a website with a dark red background, and images of many barely dressed attractive women and men. 

“Bedknobs and Broomsticks? Where all your carnal cravings are catered to?” Harry read out, outraged. “That’s a-a...”

“House of Ill Repute?” George smirked.

“Den of Iniquity?” Ron jumped in.

“A whorehouse, a cathouse, a brothel.” Charlie summed up with a saucy wink at Harry. He was probably the most drunk of the three men, with every gesture exaggerated and overly dramatic. 

George pointed at the screen. “Look. We ordered you a package.”

Harry was too shocked to do anything but lean closer to read the fine print aloud. “Orientation with our Madame, and twelve sessions with our highly screened professionals, trained to satisfy your every need.” 

He stood back up, glaring at the men surrounding him. “You think I’m so hard up that I need to go to a-a-“

“Prostitute.”  
“Sex Worker.”  
“Whore.”

The men helpfully supplied the word Harry couldn’t seem to get out. He just shook his head at their unabashed audacity. 

Charlie shrugged. “Look, this is a clean, safe place. A friend of mine goes there often. He’s too busy to have a girlfriend or a wife, so finds this a good alternative.”

He hit the print button and soon passed Harry a piece of paper with all the details. 

George gave him a thump on his back. “Just go. Have some fun.” He turned back to the computer with Charlie, joking around together as they watched a video of a cat in a shark costume.

Ron pulled Harry off to the side, taking the paper and folding it up. “Harry, I know it’s a bit crazy, but when’s the last time you just did something for yourself?” He shoved the paper into Harry’s pocket, speaking softly. “It’s confidential. We won’t tell anybody. I won’t even tell Hermione.”

His tone was concerned and sincere now, and Harry could only stare back at him for a long moment or two. _Did they actually think he needed this?_

Eventually, they rejoined the party, the brothers often subtly teasing Harry about their gift. He left not long after that, thanking Molly and Arthur for the meal. Giving everyone tight hugs before he floo’d back to Grimmauld Place. 

In the privacy of his own bedroom, he looked closer at the sheet of paper. The guys had acted so casual about it. Was this something men actually did, normal men? Charlie always seemed busy with his work too, and didn’t seem to have relationships. Was that what he did? It was his idea, after all. But wasn’t Charlie gay? 

Looking again at the paper, Harry read it over carefully. There were pictures of attractive women and men on it. Did that mean they had male sex workers also? 

Harry swallowed hard at the idea. Since things had fizzled with Ginny, he had tried dating a few different women, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. Eventually, he had faced up to the reality he was more attracted to men than women. Being Harry Potter, it had been hard to get opportunities to test this out. To make sure. And he wanted to be certain before he came out as gay to his friends, or before it leaked to the press. 

Maybe here was that chance. He could go a dozen times to this- this- place, and try everything. Learn from a professional.

...

-A/N: A crazy story that will likely be at least 12 chapters long. It is a very slow burn, with lots of twists and turns. There will be some mild BDSM scenes, but mostly vanilla sex. I have rough draft done of the first few chapters and will hopefully be posting at least weekly, if not more often.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry pulled the hood of his black robe up, covering his head and putting his face in shadow, before taking the turn on to Knockturn Alley. Since the war, most of the Dark Arts businesses had closed, and others had taken over. Most were still on the shady side, and Harry’s auror senses were on high alert. 

Within a few minutes, he stood in front of the brothel. The wood siding was painted black, with thick, dark curtains covering the windows and hardly letting a sliver of light out. The front door was dark red, with the name of the business painted boldly in gold in the centre. A single red lamp hung over the door, drawing Harry closer. 

Heart pounding, Harry entered quickly and closed the door behind him, leaning back against it as he got his bearings. 

A wide staircase swooped up to the second floor, a thick, scarlet carpet muffling the footfalls of an older woman who descended to greet him with a pretty smile. “Welcome to Bedknobs and Broomsticks. I am Madame LaBelle, but you can call me Monique.”

The woman was likely over fifty years old, but still beautiful. Her black hair was generously shot through with silver, twisted into an elegant coil on the back of her head. Her deep blue dress showed a voluptuous figure that had no doubt been in high demand in her earlier days as a prostitute. Her sharp, dark eyes looked Harry over appreciatively, and he found himself drawing himself up to be taller under her thorough perusal. 

Harry shook her hand gently. “James. I sent an owl.” He had done a mild disguise spell, his features altered enough to keep from being recognized. It was one he often used at work.

Nodding, Monique waved Harry into a parlor to the right of the staircase. The lavish decor reminded Harry of an earlier era, with dark wooden furniture, thick red velvet drapes over the windows and a burgundy chaise lounge. He perched nervously on the edge of it. 

Monique sat on a plush armchair, and offered him a glass of wine. He accepted, his mouth dry with nerves. 

“Your message said you have never been to an establishment like this before.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Yes. Close friends bought me the package.”

Monique gave him a knowing smile. “I am honored to have you here. We will endeavor to make your experiences what you desire.”

Trying to appear calm, Harry took another sip of the wine. Excitement and a low burn of arousal warred with his nerves.

“Now, please be honest with me. I have worked in this industry for decades, and assure you that nothing will shock me. What are you looking for?” Monique peered at Harry over the rim of her wineglass. 

This was it. Harry had found it hard to admit it to himself. He had never said it aloud to anyone else. “I’m... I’m gay...”

Monique nodded encouragingly, unfazed by his confession. “Fine. Any preference for type of man? Older? Younger? Build? Hair color? Ethnicity?”

Harry’s eyes widened. “Um...around my age...and I’m not really sure about the rest. I’m not... that experienced.” Every few months, he escaped into muggle London, trying out different gay clubs. It had resulted in a few fumbling, half-drunk encounters. 

The older woman finished her drink, and rose. “Please wait here.” Monique went to a desk near the window, shuffling through many papers. She returned within five minutes and passed a file folder to Harry. “Here are the profiles of some of my staff. Don’t feel pressured to choose any of them unless they suit you.”

Harry hadn’t been sure of the process for choosing the man for him, but felt relieved he could do it this way. Without the men in question staring back at him. 

They were all attractive men in their late twenties to early thirties. Harry immediately flipped past the very large, muscular men, as they weren’t really his type. There were a few others he found intriguing, each profile sheet containing a magical image that showed the subject in motion. 

But he stopped dead at the last sheet. It wasn’t the type of profile he would have normally been interested in, but something about the man in the picture caught his attention, and he could hardly look away. 

Monique noticed, and leaned closer to see which man had Harry so captivated. She chuckled, leaning back with a pleased smirk. “That is Dante. I almost didn’t include him in your file since you seem a little inexperienced, but I sense you could handle him.”

Harry swallowed hard, finding his mouth a little dry. “Um...all the leather, and the mask...is he a ...?”

Monique helped Harry out, sensing he was struggling with the correct terms. “Yes, he is a Dom, and in high demand.”

The idea of being in a small room alone with this appealing man, totally at his mercy, sent a thrill through Harry. A spark of intense carnal interest he hadn’t felt for ages. 

Funny how affected he was, when it was hard to tell what the man really looked like. He was wearing tight blue jeans, a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black leather vest over that. A matching black leather mask hid half of his face, and the hood of his black robe covered his hair. His arms were crossed, and his face tilted slightly up like he was challenging the person who took his picture. Harry could see he was slim and fit, lightly muscled, with pale skin. But even through the short captured image of him, his commanding presence shone through. 

Harry tore his gaze away from the image to look at Monique. “When can I meet with him?”

She gave a satisfied grin and collected the file back together, returning it to her desk. “You are in luck. Dante only sees his clients twelve times, and he just finished with one last week. Tomorrow night at 8 pm?”

Harry nodded in agreement, and soon had made his farewells. Back out on the street, he walked fast, needing a few blocks of distance to be able to think again. Part of him wanted to demand that Monique try to get Dante sooner. To have to wait a day seemed far too long. He felt distracted, his mind full of dark fantasies. 

The walk helped clear his mind, and Harry eventually got home, heading right to bed. He stripped, looking at his bare body in the mirror before he slipping his pajamas bottoms on. It had been a long time since he had been with a lover. The quick drunken trysts with muggle men were usually in dark corners, and never involved taking clothing fully off. Zippers were undone, clothing pushed out of the way, hands and mouths giving illicit pleasure. 

He was reasonably fit from being an auror for a decade, slim and well-muscled, not bulky. His skin had many marks and scars that healers couldn’t fade. Some from the war, some from earlier scuffles, many from his auror years. He didn’t mind them. 

His hair was perhaps a little too long and messy, but he’d never really been bothered by that either. He wore a uniform at work, and old jeans with t-shirts and jumpers when he wasn’t dressed up for charity functions. His dress robes got far too much wear. 

Under the covers, he ran his hand over his bare chest. What would a dom do? Tie him down? Whip him? Order him to perform sexual acts? 

Ideas flowed quickly, and he gave himself the freedom to imagine the most extreme things. He shifted on the bed, spreading his legs, and slipping his hand into his pajama bottoms. Stroking slowly, his fantasies went to something he had never tried, but always been curious about. He was naked on all fours, straps keeping him in that position. Dante was kneeling behind him, working his thick, hard cock into him. Fucking him, making him take it. And there was pain mixed with pleasure...

Within a few minutes, Harry was recovering. Fast breathing slowed as he cleaned himself up with a slight chuckle. That had more intense than anything he had done for a year. What would it be like tomorrow at the brothel? 

He barely slept, his thoughts a mix of nerves, excitement and anticipation. 

...

-A/N: Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Harry shivered, even though the room was warm, and rubbed his hands up and down his bare arms. _Take a few deep breaths. This will be OK. It will be good._

Deep breaths and his attempts to calm himself down weren’t doing much to make Harry less nervous. Underneath that, there was a deep arousal that had been fed by countless fantasies running through his head since he had received this damn gift. It had been so distracting, images of naked bodies or sex toys popping into his head at work or during the boring speeches at charity events. 

Now, stripped down to only his boxer briefs, Harry tried to control his thoughts. An erection would be far too obvious. The longer he waited, the harder it got to control. 

How long had it been since one of the brothel staff led him to Dante’s bedroom and told him to strip down and kneel? Ten minutes? Twenty? It felt like ages. 

Finally, he heard someone approaching in the hallway outside, and he tensed, stomach suddenly tight with nerves. The door swung open and a man in a black robe with the hood up stepped inside. 

Harry’s heart was pounding, and he looked down to the floor. Isn’t that what good subservient people did?

The man stood right in front of Harry, his feet encased in dragon hide boots, and tight blue jeans hugging his long, slim legs. A finger under Harry’s chin urged his face upwards, and Harry let his gaze travel along his body. A snug black t-shirt, pale skin of his throat, and a face in shadow from the generous fabric of his hood. 

Harry could feel the man’s eyes on him, the finger under his chin keeping him in place as he looked his fill. No doubt the man recognized him, and Harry had to dig deep to stop himself from looking away. He had decided to not alter his appearance while in this room. Yes, he was Harry Potter, and he was here as a client of a male dom. Would Dante be able accept that, and be able to treat him like a regular client?

The man gave a slight chuckle, and moved his hand away from Harry to push his own hood back. He stared down at Harry, a defiant glint in his grey eyes, a small smirk threatening to become bigger on his lips. “Harry Fucking Potter.”

Harry could only stare back in shock. It took dry swallowing a couple times before he found he could speak. “Draco Malfoy.”

Draco stepped away, slipping off his black robe and hanging it on a hook near the door. It gave Harry a chance to breathe again, looking over the man he hadn’t seen in years, heart pounding hard in his ears. 

The man had filled out since Hogwarts, his body still obviously slim in the snug jeans and t-shirt, but his angles rounded by lean muscles. His hair had deepened to a darker blond, and there was a light scruff of whiskers along his jaw. He definitely looked like a man now instead of a boy. Harry found himself licking his lips as his eyes traced over the way the denim clung to his ass. 

Spinning around quickly, Draco caught where Harry’s gaze had been and chuckled again. Harry felt his cheeks warm a little, and he looked away. He felt so out of his element here, vulnerable and exposed. 

Grabbing a simple wooden chair, Draco put the back towards Harry and straddled it, his arms folded along the top rail. He looked down at Harry, still kneeling before him in just his underwear, and simply shook his head slowly. 

“When Monique told me I had a new client named _James,_ I never considered for a moment it could be you. The great Harry Potter, here, paying to be my little plaything for an hour? How delicious.” His grin was slow, and, Harry couldn’t deny to himself, sexy. 

Harry scoffed. “And I hardly thought the man she so highly praised would be you, _Dante.”_

Tilting his head back a little, Draco laughed again. “ _Touché._ Yes, I suppose neither of us wants our names bandied about. Although I still see your’s often enough in The Daily Prophet.” 

“Not with any encouragement on my side. I wish I could hex all their Quick Quote Quills to run out of ink anytime they tried to write my name.” Harry sighed. 

It was Draco’s turn to scoff at that comment. “As if that would happen. You’ve been selling papers for them for almost thirty years. The Boy Who Lived.” 

“You’d think everyone would be sick of reading about me by now. I haven’t done anything except regular auror work for ages.” Harry grumbled, running a hand through his hair. He had always been famous in the Wizarding World, but he had never sought it out. Everywhere he went, people recognized him. He just wanted to be treated like a normal person. 

Draco shook his head. “Oh, give me a break! You act like you don’t like the attention, but you seem to be at every charity event people put on, giving speeches and encouraging donations.” 

“That only because people are constantly asking me to host them! Begging me to be the MC, saying how my presence is essential to get the big donors there. How can I can decline helping out such worthy causes?” Harry shot back defensively. This felt more normal, arguing with Draco, and his nerves were fading away. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Worthy causes? Didn’t you MC one a week or two ago for Clothes for Critters sponsored by the Never Nude Society? And another for Anti-Nargle Necklace research?” 

Harry shifted a little, looking down at his knees. They were getting sore from kneeling so long. “A lot of people are uncomfortable around naked animals, and I did the Nargle thing as a favour for a friend.” 

“You know what the proper answer is when people ask you to host events like that? No. Do you even know that word, Potter?” Draco sneered, with a bit of a mocking chuckle. “Obviously not, considering the things you have been doing. Sheesh, you are like the sloppy party bottom at a gang bang. Willing to do anything people ask just to please them.” 

Harry was getting madder and madder with every word Draco said. The worst thing was he couldn’t think of a good counter-argument. “Shut the fuck up, Draco. I didn’t come here to have my life criticized.” 

His tone made Draco quit laughing, and his eyes narrowed as he glared back at Harry, challenging him. “That’s a good point. So, why exactly are you here, then?” 

The question made Harry’s mind go blank for a moment, his anger fading away. “Um, well, I...it was a gift, a Christmas gift.” 

Draco’s eyebrows rose as he gave Harry a considering look. “Monique mentioned you had a twelve-session package. That’s quite the gift. Why would The Chosen One get something like that? He can fuck anyone he wants to.” 

Harry gritted his teeth, going back to being irritated with Draco. “Yes, they all want to be with Harry Potter, the image that has been built by the media over all those years,” he snapped. His emotions had been everywhere today, and he was starting to feel drained. “I want to be with somebody I can be me with. The real me.” 

He could feel Draco really looking at him now, his blue-grey eyes starting at Harry’s shaggy, too-long hair, his tired eyes, the wrinkles that were starting to show on his face. His body marked with all those scars the healers couldn’t heal, souvenirs of the war and his auror work. 

Harry had been looking at Draco’s face during his perusal. He could see that the last decade had been hard on him too. His jaded eyes showed that he had been through a lot, seen a lot. But he had a confident air, seeming comfortable with his role here, successful at it. 

How had Draco come to this work? Had he been unable to find other work after the war? Why had he stayed when so many left England? Harry pushed those questions down, knowing he couldn’t ask them now. 

“And you can be the real you with a male sex worker? With a dom?” Draco finally drawled, seeming to be done his examination of Harry. 

He sighed, and decided to be honest. “In the last few years, I have found that I’m really just attracted to men. I came here to explore that.” 

“Why not with muggles?” 

“I’ve done quick things a little. I want something...more.” Harry found it hard to articulate what he wanted. Mostly because he wasn’t sure. 

Draco straightened up, looking down at Harry, his gaze hardening a little. “And have you been with a dom before? Male or female? Any BDSM play?” 

Seeing Draco like that sent a shiver of awareness through Harry. “Um, no...not at all...”. He suddenly felt a little foolish, young and inexperienced. “Monique showed me your picture, and I just wanted...you.” 

The admission took a lot for Harry to say, his heart thumping fast in his chest as he waited for Draco’s response. He could have sworn he saw a flicker of heat in his eyes, but it was quickly hidden away. The private, inner parts of Draco were fully sheltered from the world. 

Draco got up, moving the chair away and standing right in front of Harry. He put a couple fingers under his chin to tilt his head way back for good eye contact. “If you are my sub, that means you do whatever I say without hesitation. It means I can punish you if you misbehave. You will have a safe word if I go beyond your limits.” 

The words sent a thrill right through Harry, heat seeming to travel from Draco’s fingers right to his cock. He could feel himself getting hard, and hoped Draco wouldn’t notice. 

But he did, his eyes flicking downwards and lingering for a few moments before meeting Harry’s eyes again. “I do all sorts of things with my clients. Tie them up, beat them, tease them, whip them. The one thing I don’t do with them is have sex with them.” 

It took a few seconds for these words to sink in. Draco, looking impossibly sexy and all grown-up, saying he wasn’t available for sex. Harry felt bereft, his shoulders sinking a little in disappointment. “Um...never...? No exceptions?” 

Draco chuckled, releasing Harry’s chin and stepping away to sink down on to the chair, his motions graceful as a cat. He crossed his legs, his dom demeanor now gone. “Never. So, you have a couple options here. You can go back to Monique and pick out someone else to give you the ‘something more’ you said you wanted, or you can stay with me and I’ll beat you black and blue every week for three months.” 

His tone was a matter-of-fact, nonchalant even, like it was an ordinary thing to discuss. Harry supposed it probably was, for Draco, but it was the craziest conversation he’d ever had in his life. 

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding again, finding it hard to even think straight with Draco calmly watching him like that. What did he really, really want the most? Sex with a male sex worker? The other men Monique had shown him were attractive. Maybe some of them even dabbled also in BDSM. He had little experience in either area, so it wasn’t like he really needed to be with someone who specialized in BDSM for the level he was at. 

It was all perfectly logical, but he found he couldn’t agree with it. He could only look back at Draco, and say again softly, “I want you.” 

...

-A/N: Three chapters posted together to give you an introduction to this story. I’ll be posting at least once a week from now on, but likely more frequently since I have drafts of the next few chapters done.

-I will be taking a lot of artistic license with this story...so please be patient with me. Some things coming up may seem a little out of character now, but future chapters will explain everything. I hope you will stick with it. :) 


	4. Chapter 4

Draco’s eyes seemed to gleam at his admission, and he stood up. “Then we should get started. We’ve talked long enough.” He went over into a small attached room, almost like a walk-in closet, except from what Harry could see it seemed full of BDSM gear. 

Harry could feel nerves and excitement in equal measure as he waited to see what Draco would come back with. Would it be too much? It took a lot to scare him these days, after being an auror so long. But here he was wandless and likely to be tied down, needing to trust that Draco wouldn’t take things too far. 

Draco came back and set many items on the bedside table. “For this first time, I want you facedown on the bed, naked.”

It was Draco’s first order, and Harry instinctively tensed in resistance against it. There was a pause while Harry met Draco’s eyes, part of him wanting to refuse out of pure spite. But this was what he was here for. 

Looking away first, Harry’s hands seemed to shake a little as he pushed his underwear down, stripping away that last bit of defense. He tried not to blush as he rose, legs stiff from kneeling so long, and awkwardly climbed on to the bed, knowing Draco was watching his every move. Feeling totally exposed and vulnerable. At least his cock wasn’t hard anymore. 

Draco came up to his left side, and quickly buckled a leather cuff around his wrist, and used an attached strap to secure his arm to the bedpost. His motions were fast and well-practiced. He repeated it with Harry’s other wrist and his ankles, soon having him spreadeagled and completely at Draco’s mercy. 

“I’d like ‘Nargle’ to be my safe word.” Harry blurted, needing to have this tiny scrap of control.

Draco chuckled, running his bare hand down the length of Harry’s body and then giving his ass a sharp slap. “That’s for speaking without being spoken to. From now on, you will be silent unless I ask you to speak, and you will address me as ‘sir’. Is that understood?”

“Um, yes...sir.” The word felt strange to use, especially with a man the same age as Harry was. But he could still feel the sting from that slap, and was reeling from Draco’s touch on his bare skin. He was glad now he was facedown, his cock already half-hard again. It was mortifying how quickly he responded, especially since it was Draco, especially since he had specifically said they wouldn’t be having sex. Harry might get aroused, but Draco wouldn’t give him any relief from that. 

Instead of lessening his arousal, the thought had sent a pang of desire through Harry, and he shifted on the bed, allowing his erection to be in a more comfortable position. 

“Be still.” Draco ordered. He stood next to the side of the bed where Harry’s head was turned. In his hand, there was a black object. “Have you seen one of these before?”

He displayed the object, dragging it over one hand. It was a black leather whip, with a long handle. Many strips of leather were attached to the handle. “It’s called a Cat o’ Nine Tails. It’s been used for centuries by the British Army and Navy for punishment.”

Draco dragged it over Harry’s back, the tresses of the whip supple and spreading wide. The soft drag made Harry’s skin prickle in awareness, and his breath caught. This was really happening. He braced himself, knowing the teasing touch wouldn’t last long.

But Draco seemed to enjoy running the leather over Harry, dragging it slowly over his back, his ass, down his legs. It made Harry feel even more aware of his nakedness, knowing Draco was looking closely at him. Was he at all attracted to Harry, or was this purely a job for him? Just another sub to whip and punish? The whip was now teasing over his arms and shoulders, and Harry’s skin seemed more sensitized, practically tingling. 

The first blow caught Harry unawares, and he let out his breath in a rush. It landed on the center of his back, and he could feel the sting from where each strip had landed. He panted, trying to figure out how badly he had been injured by it. Was it a simple sharp pain like a slap, causing redness but soon fading to nothing, or a mark that would be raised and later darken to a bruise? 

Before he could go too far on that line of thinking, the second lash of the flogger came, slightly lower on his back. The third, fourth and fifth came quickly after that, on his upper back, his ass and his thighs. After that, Harry lost count, simply taking it, gasping, panting, squirming in his bonds against each blow. Grunting at the sharp pain. 

It seemed to take ages before the flurry of lashings stopped, but likely had been less than ten minutes. Harry panted, trying to catch his breath. Was that it? Was it over? His skin from neck to knees just stung. The pain was sharp and hot, not fading away. He had been worked over thoroughly.

What happened next made Harry jump. Draco’s bare fingertips, dragging over his injured skin, the light touch seeming almost too much over the sensitive areas. “Mmmmm...such a beautiful red color.”

Draco’s voice had a lower, raspy quality to it, and Harry instinctively responded to it, the arousal that had faded during the beating surging back. As Draco continued to touch Harry, his body seemed to get confused between pain and pleasure, mixing them together.

After a few minutes, Draco moved away, and when he returned, he undid Harry’s restraints and sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m going to put a cooling gel over you now. Stay still.”

The cool gel dialed the pain right down, from burning red hot to a more bearable glow. Harry sighed in relief, relaxing into the bed under Draco’s soothing touch. It felt so good, having this man taking care of him this way, despite the fact that he had been the one inflicting the pain in the first place. Harry felt a surge of feelings towards him, confusing in their intensity, and was shocked to feel his eyes filling with unshed tears. 

“Shhhh...it’s OK. Subs often feel emotional in the aftercare. Just go with it, let it out.” Draco’s voice was soft and gentle now, settling Harry back down. 

By the time Draco pulled his hands away and wiped them on a towel, Harry felt more back to his normal self. He let Draco help him to sit up on the side of the bed, way past feeling the need to cover up around him after the man had touched him so thoroughly. 

His body ached all over, his whipped skin still feeling tight despite the gel. His shoulders and hips ached from pulling at the restraints, and there were light red marks on his wrists from the cuffs, and likely on his ankles too. Mostly, he just felt physically and emotionally drained, his energy almost all gone. 

Draco sat down beside him in the bed. “You did well for your first session, Harry. One of my other rules is that you don’t do any magical healing. I want you to let your body heal naturally from this, want you to ache and feel stiff and sore for a few days. When you come back next week, I want to see faded bruises on your skin still.”

Harry met his eyes and slowly nodded. He felt good that Draco had mentioned seeing him next week. A sign he wanted their sessions to continue. 

“I want you to take it easy for a few days, rest and sleep a lot. Take good care of yourself, so you are able to come back next week ready for more.” Draco’s voice still had a hint of his command to it, and Harry nodded, feeling the urge now to follow his orders, to please his dom. Such a reversal from his normal resistance to Draco. 

Draco stood, collecting the whip and restraints to carry them into the closet, and locking the door afterwards. He slipped on the black robe, and paused at the door. “Use this week to really think things over, Harry. I gave you a sample of what a session with me is like. They will get even more intense if we continue on. It is OK to change your mind, and tell Monique you want someone different.”

“No, I want this, sir.” Harry rushed to say, not sure if he really had permission to reply but wanting to assure Draco. 

Draco held his gaze for a few heartbeats, and then nodded. “See you next week then.” He pulled his hood up, obscuring his hair and the upper half of his face, changing him back into the unrecognizable man in Monique’s photo. He was soon out the door, closing it softly behind him. 

Harry dressed and soon left. It was early evening, and the cool air felt good as he took a few deep breaths when outside the brothel. He apparated home, heading right to the bedroom to strip. He drew a hot bath, sinking into the water with a sigh. Perhaps it wasn’t the best thing for his inflamed skin, but he could finally feel his tension unwinding as he let the heat surround him, sinking into him. 

Closing his eyes, he replayed every moment, every second, in his mind. Every word, look and gesture Draco had made. The way he had whipped Harry so hard. Was that normal for how he would treat a new sub, or was he venting some of his old feelings and grudges against Harry a little? And then how gently he had teased and explored Harry with the whip at first, and with his hand afterwards. Draco had touched almost everywhere on the back of his body. Was that normal as well? Harry’s feelings were a jumbled mess, and he eventually promised himself to work it all out later, when he wasn’t so tired. 

He washed his hair, sinking into the water to rinse the shampoo out. Rubbing a soapy sponge over his chest, Harry thought back on Draco’s touch. Even though Draco said he didn’t have sex with his clients, his touch was certainly intimate. The session with Draco had been longer than any of Harry’s fumbling trysts with muggle men, and he had seen and touched Harry all over. Even his bare ass. 

It had been shocking to be whipped there, but even more shocking when Draco smoothed the gel over him. Fingers tracing over the roundness of each cheek. Harry’s legs still wide apart, leaving him vulnerable if Draco wanted to move his hand anywhere else. 

The memories had Harry aroused again, and he stroked himself slowly in the water, closing his eyes to imagine that. Those long, pale fingers dragging between his legs, teasing, exploring. Harry getting hard and rocking against the bedsheets, desperate for any kind of friction. Shameless. He came hard, the pent-up desire from the whole day leaving him breathless and boneless. 

As the bath drained, he stood up and quickly rinsed his hair and body under the shower before getting out. He had barely enough energy to eat a sandwich and drink a cup of tea before he crashed. It was ridiculously early, but Harry was too tired to care.

...

-A/N: I haven’t written a lot of BDSM scenes, so please excuse any errors in terms or techniques.

-“BDSM is one of several overall names given to a collection of behaviors that involve bondage, spanking, domination, and other activities that are done in a safe, consensual, non-abusive manner and in an erotic context. BDSM is a form of erotic play that involves significant physical and emotional risks, and thus requires instruction in order to do so with reasonable safety.” This is taken from [BDSM Tips for Beginners](http://www.the-iron-gate.com/essays/8) with lots of great tips and book suggestions for anyone who wants to play in real life. Please also read the excellent comments some readers have left below. Be safe!

-BDSM in this story: Draco & Harry have a long history, and they definitely haven’t read the ‘BDSM Tips for Beginners’ & are doing lots ‘wrong’. Please read on to see where this goes. 


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh, there you are.” Ron sat down at Harry’s cafe table, and the new recruit, Nathaniel, took the other chair. Just seeing his young, fresh face and his quick movements made Harry feel a hundred years old. 

Harry greeted them, and concentrated on trying to look normal as he sipped his coffee as they chatted about the Quidditch game the previous night. His shoulders were really stiff this morning. 

“What did you think of that final goal?” Nathaniel asked Harry. He had been OK to work with so far, treating Harry more like a co-worker than The Chosen One. 

Harry shrugged. “Sorry, I didn’t catch it.”

Ron smirked and gave Harry a hearty slap to the back that almost had him whimpering aloud in pain. “Oh, he hardly has time to follow sport. Harry is always either showing me up by working extra hours or throwing on his dress robes to go speak at some charity gala.”

Harry glared a little at Ron for his summary of his life to the new guy, but pinned on his normal smile to turn back to Nathaniel. “Well, there are so many good causes out there. People are always asking me to help out...” He shrugged. 

“You know, I had an aunt who won big at the lottery a few years ago, and the same thing happened to her. Suddenly, people were always approaching her, asking for donations, and she had a really hard time saying No since they all sounded like good causes.” Nathaniel said, sipping his latte. 

Ron leaned forward, smirking. “I wouldn’t mind having that problem if it came with all that money.”

Shaking his head, Nathaniel put his mug down. “It got so bad she hardly felt comfortable leaving the house.”

Harry had no problem relating to that. He often had to steel himself to go out and try to live a normal life, especially when the Daily Prophet put out a new story about him. “Did it ever get better for her?”

“Oh yeah,” Nathaniel smiled broadly at Harry. “She just started a charitable foundation and hired someone to screen all the requests for her. After that, she just told people to contact the foundation, and it didn’t take long before people mostly left her alone in public.”

Harry chuckled, and leaned back in his chair. “Maybe I should do that.” He made the mistake of letting his back touch the chair, and tried to not wince in pain. 

“Oh, I have a second cousin who would be perfect! Clementine just finished some kind of office management course and I swear she is smarter than Hermione.” Ron gushed, and gulped down the rest of his coffee. “I’ll go right now and send her an owl so you can meet her.”

“Wait, Ron...” Harry tried to grab his arm but missed, not moving as quickly as he normally did, and Ron rushed off without noticing. The idea was a good one, but Harry would rather choose his own person than get stuck with some misfit cousin of Ron’s out of politeness. 

Nathaniel was looking at Harry in a strange way. “Are you feeling alright? You are moving so stiffly.”

“I’m OK. I just have a small injury the healers couldn’t fix for now, and I keep moving a little too much.” Harry tried to make his tone blasé, like it was normal to have untreated injuries. 

Nathaniel nodded, not looking entirely convinced. His skepticism showed he had good natural instincts as an auror, but Harry needed him to drop this issue. Especially if he was going to be sore every week for a few months. 

Harry leaned in a little closer, and lowered his voice. “Don’t tell anyone, but I kind of avoid healers unless it’s a really bad injury. Someone at St. Mungos always seems to leak information to the Daily Prophet, and everything gets all exaggerated. I’d rather have a bit of pain than deal with all that.”

“I understand. Well, you shouldn’t work the extra hours then, just go home and get some rest. The rest of us can handle things around here.” Nathaniel gave him a concerned look, speaking quietly as well. 

Finishing his coffee, Harry carefully stood up. “I might just take you up on that.”

...

Harry arrived at Grimmauld Place hours before he normally did. He had barely made it through his shift, with Ron oblivious and Nathaniel often shooting him concerned looks. 

The worst had been his ass. The whipped skin ached today, and sitting in the meetings with his co-workers and doing paperwork was very uncomfortable. He shifted often, trying to find a better position, his mind going back again and again to Draco. He felt completely distracted, hardly able to even focus on his work. 

Harry ate a quick dinner and went to bed early. Lying facedown on the bed was a relief, feeling much less pain that way. He only meant to rest a little, but fell deep asleep. 

...

“So, you just finished a work placement at Gringots?” Harry scanned over the young woman’s CV, and tried to think of other questions to ask her. 

Clementine gave a quick nod. “As part of my course, we alternated classroom work with various office settings. I also worked with a large law firm and an accountant’s office.”

She was in her early twenties, but had a more mature air about her. Harry never would have guessed she was a Weasley from her tidy business suit and reserved, professional manner. Only her dark auburn hair, smoothed into a chignon at the nape of her neck, hinted at her background. Her bright intelligent eyes did remind him of Hermione, and Harry could see why Ron had recommended her.

“Well, I don’t know how much Ron told you, but I am looking for someone to help me handle requests from charities.” Harry set down the paper, and took a sip of his tea. 

The young woman smiled. “Yes, Ron mentioned that you were having a hard time managing that. And something about setting up a foundation.”

Harry chuckled, wondering if there was anything his friend hadn’t told his relative. “Exactly. I would get a lawyer to do up the paperwork on that, of course. I just want someone to do the day to day work. It’s hard to say how busy the role would be for you...”

It felt a little ridiculous, hiring someone when he didn’t know the scope of the job. “Would you be willing to try this for a three month period? You could help me with the initial foundation set-up and get things going. Then we can see what is required after that.”

“A probationary period. Yes, most businesses have that.” Clementine nodded, not seeming put out by the idea. “A chance to see if we work well together also.”

Harry let out a relieved chuckle, liking this young woman more and more. “Would you be OK with using a room in this house as your office? Or I could rent some office space if you think that is more suitable.”

She looked over the room with an assessing eye, and Harry felt a bit like cringing at what she was probably seeing. He was basically a tidy guy, but never seemed to find the time to arrange for the repairs or redecorating that the old house needed. He hadn’t seen Kreacher for months, and doubted the house elf bothered with any cleaning anymore.

“Would you mind showing me around, and we can see if there is an appropriate space?” Clementine asked, already standing up. 

Harry stood up as well, feeling much more like himself now. It had taken a few days for most of the pain to fade away, and going to bed so early had left him feeling more well rested than he had been in ages. 

By the time Clementine was shaking his hand an hour later, they had agreed she would take over the second floor. She was going to convert the bedroom into a private office, and prepare the drawing room to be in better condition to receive people for the business.

Walking around the old house, Harry moved his more personal possessions to the third floor and set up some wards restricting who could access the top two floors. It would be a bit of an adjustment having other people in the house again, something he hadn’t really done for years. 

...

Harry shivered a little, goose-pimples popping up over his bare skin. The room was warm, so he just put it down to feeling a little excited and nervous. It was harder somehow, kneeling in the room again in just his underwear, knowing what had happened last time. Would Draco whip him just as hard, leaving him sore for days? 

He tensed when he heard Draco’s footfalls in the hallway outside, and drew himself into a subservient position, his head tilted down to look at the floor in front of him. His heart was pounding hard in his chest, his mouth felt dry, and he felt a pang of awareness go right to his cock. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried to keep calm, keep it together. 

He could only see Draco’s lower body when he entered. Black boots, black trousers instead of jeans this time, the black robe. Draco removed the robe and hung it up, before coming to stand in front of Harry. 

“Look at me.” The order was firm and Harry didn’t hesitate to obey, wanting to see Draco so much. 

He looked good, wearing an aubergine dress shirt tucked into the black trousers, a slim black leather belt encircling his slim waist. His silver blue eyes looked over Harry approvingly. “You look less tired this week.”

It wasn’t really a question, so Harry only nodded in response. He felt better, since he had only worked longer hours a couple nights, and had only one charity event he had committed to before hiring Clementine. 

Draco strolled around Harry, and traced his fingers lightly over his back, where some of the deeper bruises still showed faintly. Harry jumped a little at the touch, and Draco chuckled a little. “I like seeing my marks on your skin.”

The comment and touch made Harry feel a glow of warmth, feeling satisfied that his dom was pleased with him. 

Ten minutes later, Harry was tied down on the bed, this time on his back. A blindfold made it impossible to see anything, and Harry felt even more vulnerable from that. He used his other senses more, listening to Draco’s soft steps around the room and speculating on what he was doing. 

Light fingers ran down over his chest, and Harry tensed a little in reaction, barely holding back a surprised gasp. Draco seemed to be tracing over his sparse chest hair, in the centre of his chest, around his nipples, on his stomach leading down to the waistband of his briefs. His body responded almost instantly, his nipples tightening, and his cock starting to harden. Harry felt mortified, knowing he could do nothing to hide it. 

Draco didn’t seem disturbed by it, his fingers stroking and playing with Harry’s nipples, making them even harder. He pinched one firmly, and Harry let out a shocked gasp, his back arching off the bed. When Draco repeated it with the other one, it wasn’t as much of a shock, but still hurt just as much. He kept doing that, gently touching Harry and occasionally giving a hard pinch, mixing pleasure with pain. 

Harry found he was breathing faster, sweat dotting his forehead, and his cock fully hard now. No matter how much he reminded himself that Draco wasn’t going to have sex with him, his body still responded to his touch and nearness. 

Being blindfolded, Harry’s whole world narrowed down to the two of them and that bed. He could smell Draco’s light cologne, fresh and a little spicy. Feel the warmth coming off his body when he settled next to Harry on the bed. Hear that his breathing was a little faster as well, and Harry liked that. Knowing that he was affected by what he was doing to Harry. Was it simply enjoyable to him, being dominant over an old school enemy after all these years, or was he aroused by it at all? He was pulled out of that thought by an even sharper pain, and he winced as it was repeated. 

“Nipple clamps.” Draco murmured, somehow tugging on both of them. He moved off the bed, and then ran something down Harry’s chest. “And this is a crop.”

It didn’t take long for Draco to show Harry what both things could do. Tugs on the nipple clamps were interspersed with the crop flicking all over his chest and the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He tensed as the crop hit higher and higher, getting closer to his erection, his balls. The thought of being struck there made Harry pull at his restraints, wanting to curl up to protect himself. 

Eventually, Draco pulled off the clamps, and Harry gave another small cry of pain as the blood rushed back into them, feeling like pins and needles in already aching areas. He also undid the restraints, but left the blindfold on. “Roll over.”

It took Harry a second to follow the demand, his arms and legs a little achy from being in the restraints and his actions tentative to roll onto his sore chest. 

“That was pathetic. When I tell you to do something, you need to move faster than that,” Draco sneered, sounded completely disgusted. He yanked Harry’s underwear down, and soon had it worked off entirely. “I better give you twenty more strikes to make sure you learn this lesson. Count them aloud for me.”

The first hit of the crop against his ass made Harry jump. “Ahhh...one.” Each strike seemed harder than the last, only on his ass, and Harry was sure the crop was raising red welts over his skin. He could barely say the numbers after each one, he was trying so hard not to let sounds of pain escape.

He slumped on the bed after almost shouting “Twenty.” It had been the hardest hit yet, and it felt like every inch of his ass was red and sensitive. He felt exhausted, completely drained again. Somehow, being unrestrained had made it worse, struggling to stay still as he waited for each whoosh of the crop. 

Dimly, he knew Draco was moving around, but it wasn’t until he was smoothing the cooling gel over Harry’s inflamed skin that he felt more aware of his surroundings. “You can say your safe word if it ever seems like too much.”

The soft words and his light touch made Harry feel better, and he found himself relaxing, sinking into the bed. His chest still hurt, but not as bad as his ass. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

He hadn’t said much today, and it felt a little strange. Had he really just spent an hour alone with an attractive man, being basically tortured?

“Roll over. Let me see your chest.” Draco said. 

Even though he was in pain, Harry scrambled to obey quickly, not wanting to make the same mistake as last time. When his ass hit the bedsheets, he hissed aloud. 

Draco chuckled, running his hands over Harry to settle him down. “Good boy. Now just relax while I take care of you.”

More cooling gel, Draco swirling around and over his nipples until they were hard again. He smoothed gel over the other parts of his chest, and then his hand was sliding up his leg. “Spread your legs for me.”

Harry could only obey, biting his lower lip as Draco’s hand went up his inner thigh. It stopped at the top, lingering for a few heartbeats before sliding back down. It moved to his other leg, seeming to go over slower as it moved upwards. 

It was so good. Harry was rock hard and could even feel his cock leaking a bit of precum. He shifted on the bed, shamelessly spreading his legs a little wider and arching his hips slightly off the bed. He let out a little whimper when Draco’s hand stopped, barely an inch below his balls. _Just a little higher._ He had never wanted anything so much. Never wanted anyone so much. 

“Harry,” Draco growled, his voice soft but with a pleasing roughness to it. “Are you trying to break one of my rules? What did I tell you last time?” He moved his hand away, much to Harry’s disappointment.

Harry wished he wasn’t wearing the blindfold, wanting so badly to see Draco right now. “That you don’t have sex with clients, sir.”

“That’s right. Now are you going to behave, or do you need another lesson?” Draco drawled, and gave one of Harry’s sore nipples a tap.

Pain jolted through Harry, and his hips dropped back on to the bed. “I’ll behave, sir.”

Draco seemed satisfied with that, continuing with his aftercare, his touch soothing instead of teasing. Eventually, he undid the blindfold and got up from the bed. 

Harry wasn’t aroused any longer, but he still watched Draco with appreciative eyes as he walked over to don his robe. “Um, sir...” He knew it was wrong to speak out of turn, but he needed to ask something.

Draco turned slowly, glaring at Harry. He arched an eyebrow at him. “What, Harry?”

Harry sat up on the side of the bed, trying to ignore the pain. “You said you don’t have sex with clients, but what if I wasn’t a client, sir?” He said it fast, his desire stronger than his fear of punishment, or his discomfort being naked in front of the fully dressed man. 

Draco’s eyes widened at the question, and Harry was sure he saw a flash of heat in them before they became guarded again. He tilted his face up a little to look down at Harry, his expression full of disdain. “You committed to twelve sessions. Are you really going to give up so soon?”

Harry shook his head, frustrated and knowing Draco was deliberately twisting his words. “I can take the pain, sir. I don’t know if I can take the rest much longer though.”

“If you are so desperate for sex, you can transfer the rest of your sessions to another man. Or go to a gay bar. I don’t fucking care, Potter.” Draco pulled his hood up, his face in shadows again. 

His shoulders slumping, Harry shook his head. “No, I want to stay with you, sir.”

“Fine. See you next week.” Draco left quickly, the door closing with greater force than normal. 

...

-A/N: I mentioned this was a slow burn, right? ;) 


	6. Chapter 6

“Oh Merlin, we got that meeting in ten minutes.” Ron leaned back, stretching his arms out over his head. 

Harry shifted carefully in his chair, his ass still sore even after three days. At least his chest was mostly back to normal now. The first few nights, he had crashed in bed early, but found he couldn’t get comfortable lying on his front or his back. He ended up sleeping on his side, which wasn’t a normal position for him and woke up every time he turned over from the pain. 

Despite that, he was feeling better overall though. He was still sleeping a lot more right after sessions with Draco, feeling so physically and emotionally drained by them. All the sleep had left him feeling much more alert and energetic at work. 

“I’ll meet you in there.” Harry went to the kitchenette, getting a glass of water, and heading towards the boardroom. 

Once a quarter, the department had a bigger meeting like this, with all the aurors coming in. He saw many that worked shifts opposite to his own, and some of the newer staff he didn’t know that well yet. He and Ron were among the oldest aurors. Ron slid into the chair Harry had saved for him just as the meeting started. 

“Thanks to everyone for coming in today...” Matilda Dankworth, the department head, started the meeting, and reviewed the progress of some larger scale investigations. 

“Now, I’m sorry to say we are facing possible staff cutbacks in the new year. You have no doubt noticed we hired only two new aurors in the spring, Nathaniel and Folade, and they are doing great. We likely won’t have the budget to hire more next year.” Matilda ended the meeting soon after that. 

Harry looked around the room, watching as the aurors chatted and shuffled out. Men and women he had worked long, hard shifts with over the years. 

Ron gave him a funny look. “Are you coming? I want to go to the Toad and Turtle for some shepherd’s pie.”

Nodding, Harry got up. “I’m just a bit surprised about what Matilda said at the end there. We are already down about ten people from the numbers we used to have, and they aren’t hiring as many new aurors. How can she be considering cutbacks?”

“Simple.” Ron scoffed. “The war has been over for ages now, Harry. Most of the Death Eaters are dead, in Askaban, or have left the country.”

Harry followed his friend to the pub, sinking into their favourite booth at the back. “But it’s not like crime is gone entirely. I was just at Gringotts last week investigating a robbery. A big one.”

“Not gone, but it’s back to pre-war levels. Matilda has been commenting on the trend for ages.” Ron turned to place his order with the server, leaving Harry to think for a few moments. 

After placing his own order, Harry took a sip of his beer. “Why do they keep asking me to work long hours then?”

Ron tilted his head a bit to the side. “Do they? I haven’t seen a manager do that with anyone for years. I just thought you worked so much to avoid going back to that old sad house of yours.”

Harry gave him a light kick under the table. “It’s not that bad. Clementine even brought some cleaners in last week, and now she’s mentioning painters.”

“Oh, she’s working out OK, then?” Ron gave him a wide, happy smile, looking quite satisfied with himself.

The server came back with their meals, and they dug in hungrily. “Yeah, she is so efficient and professional. Are you sure you are related?”

Ron just chuckled at the jibe, and took a long swallow of his beer. 

“Seriously, she has all my paperwork organized already, her office set up, and is handling the charity stuff great. Thanks for suggesting her.” Harry was truly amazed at what the woman had done in such a short time. “I don’t even have another charity event to go to until next month. I don’t know what to do with all these free evenings.”

Ron gave him a strange look. “I kind of thought maybe you were getting involved with someone. You seem to be eager to leave right when your shift ends lately.”

The words almost had Harry choking on his beer. He was involved with someone, in a way. Draco. But he could hardly tell Ron about all that, or that he was leaving early because his backside was whipped almost raw. “Well, there is someone lately, someone from the past...but I don’t think it will go anywhere.”

“Didn’t Bill have some saying about that?” Ron took a sip of his drink, and gave him a commiserating look. “Sometimes Merlin sends an ex back into your life to see if you’re still stupid.”

Harry chuckled, and felt a bit better. It seemed like ages since he had spent time with the Weasley’s. 

“Did you ever go to that place?” Ron leaned forward, talking a bit softer. 

It took a second to figure out what he was referring to. He had kind of forgotten that seeing Draco was because he was paid in advance, and worked in a brothel. Harry was so focussed on Draco, the rest just seemed to fade away. “Um, yeah. Once a week. It’s good.”

Luckily, that seemed to satisfy Ron, and he didn’t press for more details. “Good. It’s about time you did something just for yourself. For fun.”

They chatted and joked around as they finished their meal, their friendship just as close and easy as it had been at school. But Ron’s words kept repeating in his mind. Doing things just for fun. For himself. When was the last time he had done that?

Were the sessions with Draco ‘fun’? Exciting, painful, frustrating... yes, but ‘fun’? Harry smirked to himself, trying to apply the word to being whipped until he was practically sobbing. 

They were something he did for himself, at least. An hour a week where nothing existed outside that small room. And afterwards, all the times he relived the sessions in his mind. Every word, every look, every command. Every time Draco touched his body either with his hands or his wicked little tools. Whips, crops, clamps, floggers... Leaving his mark or a burning sensation behind. His gentle, soothing fingers leaving Harry in a much more wretched state than anything else. 

Harry said goodbye to Ron, after giving him a hard hug that made the ginger chuckle. He walked home, liking the cool evening air to help him clear his head. 

At home, he went right to the bedroom and stripped, lying down and quickly uttering a spell. He spread the lube over himself, stroking fast until he was fully hard. His mind went easily back to the last session, closing his eyes tight like he was blindfolded again. 

This time, in his imagination, Draco took his non-verbal invitation, his hand moving up to stroke him. He arched off the bed, fucking into his own fist, imagining it was Draco's. Draco watching as he shamelessly tried to cum. Would Draco let him finish, or pull away and leave Harry desperate? Would he let Harry cum, making a mess all over his own chest? Would he lean down and take Harry in his mouth? 

Tonight, he let the fantasy go even further. Draco ordering him to turn over, and then putting the wrist and ankle cuffs on him again. Getting Harry up in his knees, ass up, head down. Completely vulnerable. Harry moved to this position on his own bed, and let his slick fingers explore, working them inside. He hadn’t done this before, only doing hand and mouth things with the muggle guys. 

It was Draco’s fingers, teasing him, pushing inside. Would Draco open him up, and then use a toy? Tease Harry? Get him gasping and begging for more? Fuck, what would it feel like to have Draco naked behind him, pushing his thick, hard cock in? Harry came from that image, his fingers in his own ass, collapsing down on to the bed. 

...

Harry cleaned up and slipped on some pajama bottoms, heading down to the kitchen to make some tea. 

On the way, he toured around the second floor. Clementine had put her stamp on the area, everything spotless and well organized. She had been able to repurpose most of the existing furniture, getting Harry to move the bed to the top floor and clearing out most of the clutter. Harry had insisted she order herself a desk and any office supplies she needed. The drawing room looked much more inviting with the dust and cobwebs gone. 

The main floor also showed signs of her attention. The cleaners had gone over this floor as well. As he waited for the kettle to boil, preferring to make tea the old muggle way, he leaned against the counter and viewed the kitchen with fresh eyes. 

The paint on the walls and some of the furniture was in pretty bad shape, but the overall design was fine. He liked the long table that could easily seat a dozen people or more. Not that he could remember the last time he had invited anyone over. 

The kettle boiled, and he made a big pot of tea and carried it out to his study. It was a small room with a fireplace and a bookcase, and where he spent the odd evening he had at home. 

Curling up on the sofa under a blanket and sipping his tea, Harry thought about Draco. He had to face the truth...he was becoming a little obsessed with the man. 

Draco had given him some options, changing to a different man at the brothel or meeting someone at a bar for a hook-up. Part of Harry liked the idea of just having sex with someone. Being in a bedroom or hotel room, being naked together, having the time to really touch and explore each other. Try everything he was curious about. 

But somehow, it just felt kind of empty. He preferred being intimate like that with someone he knew and liked. Someone that he shared mutual desire with. 

He hadn’t wanted someone, really wanted someone, for years. But the second Draco pulled his hood back, Harry had felt it. Perhaps there had been this attraction between them right from the start, but it was overshadowed by everything else going on between them. Now that the other stuff was gone, Harry was able to feel the attraction. Or maybe he had been unaware of idea of being bisexual or gay when he was in school. 

Had Draco known back then? How did he identify himself now? He seemed to have no problem with having male clients, but did he just do it for the money? Was that why he had the ‘no sex’ policy? Was it somehow OK to beat and touch a naked man, as long as you kept your own clothes on? 

What were the exact boundaries of his ‘no sex’ definition? He had touched Harry everywhere, except his cock, his balls, his asshole. Nipples and ass were OK, it seemed. He had obviously noticed that Harry was aroused, had almost touched him last time. What if Harry touched himself in front of Draco? Would he allow that? Was that sex? He wouldn’t officially be having sex _with_ a client. A client would be having sex in front of him. What if he used toys in front of Draco? What if Draco gave him the toy and ordered him to use it? Told him exactly what to do? What if Draco was fucking Harry with a big dildo and ordering him to jerk himself off? He wasn’t actually touching Harry if he did that, and his clothes would still be on. Was that having sex with someone?

Harry was almost fully hard again, with the way his thoughts were galloping, but he reined them in with a sigh. He had been worse than a teenager lately, rubbing one out several times a day. 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

What the hell was he going to do? He had to stop seeing Draco. This really was becoming an obsession. Was it just because he had more time on his hands lately? Was he just filling it with thoughts of Draco? This was stupid. Monique had said Draco only saw clients for a dozen sessions, and then moved on to other guys. So, in ten more sessions, it would be over. 

Was there any way he could see Draco outside the brothel? Either now or after the sessions were done? Harry wouldn’t be his client then. Would Draco be willing to have sex then? 

What could there be between them? Some wild, crazy sex for a few weeks or months, until they both got it out of their systems? Maybe it was just a way to deal with all their old animosity. Fuck the living shit out of each other and go their separate ways. 

There was no way it could be more than that, right? Is there any way Draco could stop being a sex worker and become Harry’s partner? Find a respectable job, live a respectable life? Could he do it? Would people accept him? Would he even want that? Could they be happy together?

Part of Harry laughed at the idea, while another part of him could picture it working. He had been through enough in his life that he deserved to be happy, right?

Whatever way it was, he couldn’t stop seeing Draco, and pushing him for more. Maybe it was an obsession. Maybe it was unhealthy. But he was making Harry feel more alive than he had in years. 

...

“Get on all fours.” Draco ordered, picking up a paddle covered in black leather.

Harry quickly rolled over and positioned himself in the centre of the bed. He wore handcuffs that were attached to the headboard with a long chain, and a spreader bar was attached to his ankles, so it wasn’t too difficult to move around. Draco had been flicking a flogger along his inner thighs, making Harry tense as he moved upwards. 

This was their third session, and Harry was getting used to the pain. By the time Draco had him tied into position and brought out whatever would be used on him, Harry was deep into the mindset, almost eager for it to begin. The first few impacts always made him tense up and jump, but he found a way to breathe into it and relax, letting himself go with it. He dropped into almost a trance, just completely in the moment, focussed entirely on Draco and the pain and how perfect it all was. Submitting to it totally. 

He pushed his ass out, almost begging Draco to hit him with the paddle. The first few hits were shockingly loud, the flat hard surface against his ass, and then Harry got used to how it felt. The shock of the impact, the radiating pain, the tingle of the blood rushing to that spot. Harry gasped, lowering his head and arching his back, before sticking his ass back out for the next one. Savoring each one. 

“Fuck, that’s beautiful.” Draco said softly, running his hand over Harry’s arched back. 

Looking at Draco over his shoulder, Harry could see that his eyes were a bit darker, and his face a little flushed and damp. “You should take off your shirt, sir. You look like you are getting hot.”

Those words and the way Draco had looked sent a wave of pure delight through Harry. Draco wasn’t just doing this for the money, he was enjoying it too. Enjoying having Harry as his sub. He got back into position, ready for more. 

There was a pause, and out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a flash of blue and knew Draco had followed his suggestion. He had taken off his blue dress shirt and tossed it to the chair. Harry wanted so badly to look over his shoulder at Draco again, but didn’t dare. Not yet. 

The hard slaps of the paddle resumed, and Harry closed his eyes, imagining how Draco looked, bare chested, swinging that paddle. Slim and muscular, pale skin, getting flushed and warm from his exertions. Blond hair flopping on to his face. Harry was practically moaning at the image. 

The paddle dropped to the floor, and Harry could hear Draco panting. He undid the spreader bar, and Harry shifted his legs closer together. His joints got a little stiff if he was in one position too long. 

The cooling gel was now being smoothed over his skin, and Harry dropped his head right down to the bed, his ass shamelessly in the air. He rocked slightly back into Draco’s touch, silently begging for more.

“Behave.” Draco growled, but then his slick hands moved down Harry’s back. 

Harry froze for a second at the unexpected contact, and then relaxed into it. Draco usually applied the gel only to the areas he had worked on, and he hadn’t done anything to Harry’s back today. 

But it was over too soon. Draco nudged Harry to roll over and quickly undid the cuffs. He rubbed Harry’s wrists, but they weren’t really marked. 

The only area left was Harry’s inner thighs, and he watched Draco through his eyelashes. Draco looked wonderful, his chest lean and long, and basically hairless. His dark jeans rode low on his hips, and Harry’s gaze traced over them. Was Draco hard for him? 

Kneeling between Harry’s legs, Draco pushed at his bent knees to make them fall outward, exposing the marks on his inner thighs. He methodically smoothed the gel over each one, cooling those bright sparks of pain to dull embers. 

Harry was fully erect, like he was during most of these sessions. This position had him completely on display, and having a half-naked Draco so close was simply too much. The tip was already wet with precum, and Harry simply reached down and rubbed the moisture all over the head of his cock. 

Draco’s eyes widened at that, but he didn’t immediately order Harry to stop. So Harry closed his eyes and started stroking hard and fast, already so near the edge he knew it wouldn’t take much. Having Draco watching just made it hotter. 

He opened his eyes a crack, looking at Draco, and simply seeing him watching. His eyes were trained right on Harry’s cock, watching it slide through his fingers. It was enough to send Harry right over the edge, and his hips bucked, cum splattering all over his own chest. 

It was intense, and it took a minute for Harry to get his breath back and to come back to Earth. Draco was across the room, yanking his robe on, his hands fumbling to tug the hood over his head. 

“Draco, wait...” Harry sat up, swinging his legs to the side of the bed, but the door was already slamming hard behind him. 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

Grabbing his wand, Harry cleaned up, and threw his clothes on. He ran down to the front desk, where a young woman was reading a thick novel. 

“Can I speak with Dra-Dante?”

The woman flicked him a disinterested look. “He just left.”

 _Fuck._ Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Can I send him a message?”

“No, but you can send one to Monique. She will contact him for you if she thinks it’s appropriate.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine. Do you have any paper I can use?”

She waved him towards a writing desk in the corner of the lobby, and Harry sank down on to the upholstered chair with a thump. What the hell could he write? 

**Monique,  
** **I think I went a bit too far with Dante today.**  
**Can you please tell him that I am very, very sorry and would love to meet to tell him that in person?**  
**James**  
**12 Grimmauld Place**

She didn’t know his real name, and his address wasn’t public knowledge, so it was the best way to go. 

Sighing, he left the note with the receptionist and left.

...

Two long days later he got a reply from Monique.  
**James,**  
**I showed Dante your letter and he says thank you for the apology, but he thinks it best if you switch to a different man.**  
**Please feel free to schedule an appointment with me to decide who to transfer your remaining sessions to.**  
**Monique**

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

Harry crumpled the note and threw it into the fire. It was no surprise that Draco had replied that way. Harry had broken one of his main rules, showing he couldn’t be trusted around Draco. No doubt he had overzealous clients before, and he knew it was best to cut off contact with them. 

Where did Draco even live now? The Manor had been taken as part of their reparation payments, along with most of their fortune, when his father had been sent to Azkaban. His mother was living abroad now, and Harry was surprised Draco hadn’t moved with her. 

Could he stake out the brothel? Wait for Draco to appear and try to talk to him? But if Draco apparated or used the floo network to get directly inside the brothel, there’s no way Harry would see him. 

_Fuck._

...

-A/N: Tensions mounting...

-Thanks to everyone for reading, leaving kudos and comments! Your support means a lot to me. :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Monique,  
** **Would you please apologize again to Dante for me and give him this?  
** **James**

**Dante,  
** **I’m using this name as I respect your privacy.  
** **I am so, so sorry for what I did. I went completely over the line and I promise to never do it again.  
** **If you let me see you again, you can hit me as much as you want with the enclosed toy. The store said the rubber ball on the end allows for deep muscle bruising, leaving a lasting impression for several days.  
** **Please, please punish me hard for what I did. Please, please don’t shut me out of your life when we have just found each other again.  
** **HP  
** **12 Grimmauld Place**

The toy was a black 12 inch rod with a 2 inch hard rubber ball attached to one end. Harry tucked his note to Draco inside the box, and dropped it off at the brothel. 

It was returned a couple days later by Monique, saying Dante refused to accept it.

He sent another letter with another gift, a voucher for a new set of robes with a popular menswear designer. 

It was returned as well.

Thinking hard, Harry finally came up with another idea. It took a bit of research, but eventually he dropped the gift off at the brothel. The private note inside said simply:

 **D-  
** **I will say again that I am sorry, but understand that you cannot forgive me.  
** **I am thankful for the brief time we had together to get to know you a little as the man you are now.**  
**Wishing you all the best,**  
**H**  
**PS: I hope this gift is something that you can enjoy.**

...

Harry felt exhausted. He had barely been dragging himself into work each day, and went to bed as soon as he got home. 

Ron was giving him concerned looks, bringing him bottles of pumpkin juice and bowls of soup to eat at his desk, like he was sick with the flu. 

Harry half-heartedly ate some of it, and pushed the rest away. He had no appetite these days. 

Clementine had taken one look at him and cancelled his upcoming event. She was just as bad as Ron, leaving him baskets of muffins in the kitchen.

Ignoring it all, Harry poured himself a large fire whiskey and downed it like a shot. He staggered up to his room, stripped to just his t-shirt and underwear, and crawled into bed. 

It had been two weeks since he’d last seen Draco, and a week since he’d sent the last letter. He hadn’t heard back about it, and knew it had been a futile last ditch attempt. Draco had made his rules clear from the start, and Harry had broken them. 

Nothing seemed to interest Harry right now. He just had no energy. At least his bedroom was dark and the thick covers made a warm cocoon. He drifted along, half-sleeping, trying to think about nothing. 

A top-volume screeching noise had Harry jumping out of his bed, heart pounding, wand already in his hand. He grabbed his glasses, and stopped to listen closer to the sound, his shoulders dropping when he identified what it was, but bringing on a different type of tension. 

It was one of the wards he had set for anyone trying to get up to this level of the house. Glancing at the clock on the wall, Harry saw it was 8:37 pm, so it definitely couldn’t be Clementine. Even when she worked late, she was never here past 7 pm. That meant it was someone else. An intruder.

Throwing on some dress shoes that were lying nearby from his last formal event, Harry crept out into the hallway. The house was dark and quiet, but he could just sense that he wasn’t alone. 

Wordlessly, he cast a _Lumos_ spell and flicked it upwards to illuminate the whole area. There was the shadow of someone on the staircase, likely trying to get through Harry’s wards to attack him in his sleep. 

_”Stupefy!_ ” Harry’s spell could go through the wards, and the shadow stiffened before falling down the stairs with a satisfying thump.

Casting another _Lumos_ spell, Harry ran down the steps. The person was wearing black, lying facedown, and Harry rolled them over carefully, his wand close at hand. 

It was Draco Malfoy. 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

Sighing, Harry levitated him and manoeuvred him down to the second floor drawing room. Once he was lying on a sofa, Harry mumbled “ _Rennervate_ ”. 

Draco’s eyes opened, and immediately focussed on Harry. “You stupefied me!”

“You were trying to break my wards! In the middle of the night!”

Draco scoffed, sitting up and rubbing a sore spot on his head. “Middle of the night. It’s not even 9 pm!”

“And that makes it OK to bust into my house?” Harry paced around the room, adrenaline still pumping through his body. 

“I knocked and pounded at your front door for ages!” Draco got up, grabbing hold of the arm of the sofa to keep from wobbling.

“And that makes it OK to bust into my house?” Harry repeated, swirling around to glare at the taller man.

Draco was the first to look away. “I somehow got this idea in my head that you could’ve been sick or injured. I was trying to check on you.” 

The fight went out of Harry at that admission, and he stepped closer to Draco. “I think you are the one who might be injured. You hit your head when you fell down the stairs.”

“And whose fault was that?” Draco grumbled, but he sat back down on the sofa. 

Harry had become quite good at basic healing spells, dealing with the day to day injuries the aurors got. He parted Draco’s hair, seeing the reddened bump. “Stay still a second...”

A few words and waves of his wand, and Harry could see the tightness in Draco’s expression ease. 

“Look, let’s start all this again. Why are you here, Draco?” Harry sat down beside him, dragging a blanket over his body. He felt messy and underdressed, wearing very little and his hair in disarray from being in bed. He hadn’t even shaved that morning before he dragged himself to work. 

Draco pulled an envelope from out of his suit pocket, and Harry recognized it as his last gift. “Why did you send this to me?”

“Didn’t you like it?” Harry searched Draco’s expression, but found he was still far too good at hiding his emotions. 

Draco shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Why did you send it?” He shook the letter at Harry, his eyes intense. 

Harry drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Just what I said in the letter. To say I’m sorry and I respect your decision. The gift was just something I thought you might like.”

“A muggle train ticket to Lucerne, Switzerland.” Draco stared at Harry, his eyes looking for answers too. 

Harry swallowed hard, glancing away. “I heard that is where your mother lives now. I thought you might like to visit her. You would be anonymous travelling on a muggle train.”

Draco’s fingers went under Harry’s chin, tugging it so he met Draco’s gaze. “Why, Harry?”

There was nothing he could say but the unvarnished truth. “Because it’s what I’d want the most if my mother was still alive. I don’t know everything you have been through since the war, but I know you two love each other, and I guessed you miss her.” Harry blinked fast, and pulled away, just needing a minute. 

Draco was quiet, likely lost in his own thoughts. When Harry finally looked over at him again, he could see Draco was a little rough too. 

“Um, I’m going to get us some tea. Don’t go anywhere.” Harry got up, wrapping the blanket more tightly around himself. He waved a wand at the fireplace, starting a good sized fire that soon warmed and brightened the room. 

Harry ran down to the kitchen, and threw everything together as fast as he could. Clementine’s muffins looked good on plate on the tea tray. 

Sighing in relief that Draco was still there, Harry poured the tea and sat back down at his end of the sofa. He sipped the comforting drink, staring into the fire. After a couple minutes, Draco did the same. 

“You are right. I do miss my mother and it’s been hard to see her as often as I’d like to.” Draco’s voice was soft, his face half-lit by the fire, half in shadow. 

That made Harry nod and smile. “Muffin? My assistant made them so they are probably pretty good.” He held out the plate towards Draco. 

Draco took one. “You have an assistant?”

Harry took one as well, suddenly feeling hungry, before setting the plate back down. “It’s a new thing. I thought it might help me be less of a ‘sloppy party bottom’.”

Smirking widely, Draco popped a piece of muffin into his mouth. “And is it helping?”

“Well, she has taken over my charity calendar, and is being very selective on what I attend. Between that and you making me too sore to work long hours, I’ve had a lot of free time lately.” Harry found he had already eaten his muffin, and reached for another one. 

Draco poured himself another cup of tea. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Harry liked this, Draco feeling comfortable enough to serve himself, and being able to talk more openly than they ever had before. 

“Um, well, it might have been a contributing factor to my behaviour lately. Having all this time on my hands meant I perhaps got a little obsessed...with you. I acted horribly, and it’s totally my own fault.” Harry’s heart was thumping, but he tried to keep his tone light. 

Draco looked at him calmly, likely easily reading Harry’s earnest expression, and he turned back to the fire with a sigh. “Neither of us have behaved perfectly.”

The comment gave Harry a glimmer of hope, along with Draco being in his home at all. “Look, we were both surprised to see each other after all these years, and it’s stirred up a lot of old feelings. At least on my side.”

“On my side too.” Draco admitted, and he set his empty cup down. 

Harry felt a surge of relief at that. “So, does that mean you accept my apology now and we can go back to our weekly sessions?”

“No,” Draco said firmly, his tone broking no argument.

“Oh.” Harry’s heart dropped about a foot in his chest. He suddenly felt a bit nauseous, regretting eating those muffins so fast. 

Draco stood up, walking slowly around the room. The walls were covered with his mother’s family tree, his own name appearing underneath her’s. His eyes flicked over the walls, but he didn’t seem that interested. 

Eventually, he sat down on the other sofa, facing Harry directly. “After the war, everything was taken from us. The house, everything we owned, the money, our reputations. With Father at Azkaban, my mother was not the same. For all their faults, they did love each other. I spent my last bit of money getting her away from here, to distant relatives in Lucerne.”

Harry nodded, just wanting Draco to go on. To understand him better.

“Back here, I couldn’t get work. I could hardly even show my face anywhere.” He ran his hand through his hair, and Harry knew how hard those years were for many people. 

Draco looked towards the fire. “Monique found me then, and took me in. She gave me food and clothes, a place to sleep. Offered me work.”

Harry felt so bad, wondering if he would have helped Draco back then.

Looking back at Harry, Draco’s eyes were dull. It was hard for him to talk about this. “But no matter how hungry and desperate I was, I couldn’t...,” his voice catching with emotion. “I couldn’t have sex for money.”

Harry’s heart went out to him, seeing the pure pain in his eyes. “But you work in a brothel...?”

Draco nodded. “Monique understood. She taught me a different service I could provide. Being a dom.” He gave a dry laugh. “It’s basically acting like you are better than everyone else and getting people to acknowledge it.”

Harry chuckled, trying to lighten the mood a little. “Sounds like something you were born to do.”

“A lot of people came to me after the war wanting to be punished, wanting to suffer. They wanted to expunge their guilt, and I had no problem beating them black and blue.” Draco leaned back and crossed his legs. “Which makes you so interesting, Harry. You are Mr. Perfect. An Auror. Constantly helping out every charity under the sun. The fucking Chosen One. Why the hell are you letting me whip you until my arm aches?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know. Ron and his brothers gave me the package as a bit of a joke. They knew I’d been too busy to even get laid, and said I needed that, at least. So, I came to the brothel looking for some no-strings sex, hoping to try things with a man that I’d never done before. I guess I got my wish. I’ve never been flogged before.”

His joke fell a bit flat. Draco didn’t even give it half a smile. “You know why I limit my clients to twelve sessions, Harry? Because that’s enough time to help the ones who are just dealing with some old guilt, and move them along before they get too attached to me. Most of them aren’t really true submissives. It is something that works for them for this short period of their lives, and they probably won’t seek this type of relationship again.”

Harry nodded, trying to follow along. Draco had lived in this underworld for years, and understood it much more. “Am I like that too?”

Draco sighed. “You, like you are in everything you do, are unique. There is guilt there, for what, I have no fucking clue. There are feelings too. But you also go deeper into subspace than any other new sub I’ve worked with.”

“Subspace?”

“People describe it as a state you sink into during a session, often brought on by the pain blended with the trust you have in your dom. Submitting yourself to the pain.” Draco waved his hand around as he searched for the right words. 

Harry blinked in recognition. “Oh. I’ve been thinking of it as a trance. I love it. And what you do after.”

“Subs are very vulnerable when they come out of subspace. A good dom brings you back gently, takes care of you.” Draco explained. 

Nodding, Harry tried to appear normal, but he felt a bit stung by that. Was Draco like that with all his clients? “So, you think I’m a ‘true submissive’ then? I could feel like this with other doms?”

“Maybe,” Draco shrugged. 

Harry felt more confused than ever. “So, to sum things up: you forgive me and liked your gift and you will go visit your mother soon.” Harry held up one finger.

Draco gave a small smile, and nodded. 

“You are a dom and you have never had sex with a client.” Harry added a second finger.

Draco nodded again.

“I am probably a sub and will likely want some BDSM in future relationships.” Harry held up a third finger.

Rolling his eyes, Draco gave one nod. 

“I’m still extremely attracted to you and I want to see where this goes. And I hope you feel the same.” Harry said softly, holding up his fourth finger.

Draco just stared at him, not agreeing or denying with Harry’s last statement. 

Eventually, Harry just felt frustrated and he went right over to Draco, put a couple fingers under his chin and leaned down to give him a good, long kiss. They pulled apart barely an inch, catching their breath as they stared into each other's eyes. Draco's silver grey eyes told him nothing besides being a little shocked. 

Harry had a few first kisses over the years, but this was the first time with a guy he fancied. That he was so strongly attracted to. He desperately wanted to kiss him again and again, but held back, heart pounding. His gaze went from Draco's eyes to his lips, just wanting him so much. But after what had happened in the last session, he held back.

Was this good? Did this feel right? Before Harry could even begin to answer that, they were kissing again, a long, deep kiss with Draco’s hand digging into Harry’s hair, and Harry practically crawling into Draco’s lap with a moan of pure need. 

The sofa was long and wide, and they ended up lying down, pressed fully together, sharing kiss after kiss. Harry’s blanket got bunched up between them somehow, and Draco yanked it away impatiently. His hands pushed Harry’s t-shirt up, digging into the skin of his lower back, tugging him closer. 

“This isn’t fair. You are wearing far too much.” Harry whined softly, jokingly, pulling at Draco’s suit jacket. 

Draco rolled off to the side, giving Harry a quick look over. “Whereas you are wearing the fetching ensemble of underwear with dress shoes.”

“I grabbed what was nearby when I thought someone was coming to murder me in my own bed.” Harry defended himself, giving Draco a playful glare. He desperately wanted to kiss the man again, but didn’t want to go over the line like he had the last time. 

Draco gave him a bit of a smile, and then rolled onto his back. “What are we doing here, Harry?”

“Snogging.” Harry grinned, just feeling good knowing Draco was attracted to him as well. 

Sitting up, Draco straightened his clothes and his hair. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

“I don’t agree, but I guess it is getting late. When can I see you again, Draco?” Harry sat up as well, leaning against the other man. 

“Dating? Is that what we are doing now? The Chosen One and the Sex Worker?” Draco stood up, and stretched. He still looked a bit rumpled, and Harry liked seeing him that way. 

Taking his hand, Harry led him down the stairs to the entrance. “How about we go on a few discrete dates, get to know each other better, and figure out if this could actually be something?”

With a small nod, Draco leaned in and gave Harry a kiss. “I’m apparently going away to Switzerland for a week, but I’ll contact you when I get back, OK?”

Harry gave him a wide, happy smile. “That sounds perfect. I’ll miss you though.”

It took a few more kisses before Draco got out the door and apparated away. 

After repairing the wards on his front door, Harry went to bed, feeling better than he had for weeks. 

....

-A/N: Ahhhh....finally some open communication and kissing....

-BDSM: The way Draco has experienced BDSM has made him have his own theories about it. I don't think this guilt/punishment aspect is a big factor in most real life BDSM scenes. Please allow for some artistic license around this.


	8. Chapter 8

By Draco’s third day away, Harry felt like climbing the walls. There were still so many questions, so many things from their past, their present, that Harry couldn’t stop thinking about. Plus, his fantasies about Draco were keeping him up nights, images of long, deep kisses and touching each other everywhere. 

Ron was still giving him concerned looks. “What is going on with you, Harry? I’ve never seen you like this.”

Taking a deep breath, Harry quickly glanced around the cafe to make sure there wasn’t anyone too close. He still leaned forward, and spoke in a quiet tone. “You know when I mentioned that I’d run into someone from the past?” 

Ron nodded slowly. 

Harry took a deep breath. How much could he tell Ron? “Um, well, it’s all a bit confusing, partially because it’s...um...a bloke.” His voice almost gave out, his heart thumping in his chest.

Ron’s eyebrows went up a little, and he leaned back to give Harry a long look. After a few moments, he just gave a little shrug and leaned forward again. “Like Charlie.” 

His second oldest brother had been briefly engaged to a woman, but they had split up and later Charlie had come out. It had been hard for the family to accept at first, but they now treated Charlie like they always had.

“So, I’m trying to figure a lot of stuff out right now. I wasn’t sure if he liked me, that way, but it turns out he might.” It had been killing Harry, not being able to share this with anyone. 

Ron took a sip of his coffee, and gave Harry a friendly smile. He didn’t seem to be treating Harry any differently than normal. “I haven’t seen you this interested in anyone for ages. It’s worth pursuing, just for that fact alone.”

Grinning widely, Harry felt a spark of happiness at the idea. “He’s away this week, visiting relatives, and I’m trying to give him some space. But I want to send him owls every hour telling him to rush back here. I really miss him.”

Ron smirked. “You’ve got it bad, Harry. It’s good to see you like this.”

“Nuts?” Harry laughed, finishing off his drink.

“Human.” Ron joked back. “Seriously, you have been so busy being ‘Harry Potter’, you haven’t had time to just be a guy in his twenties. Dating, seeing friends, drinking too much...you know, living.”

His old friend made a good point. He couldn’t remember that last time he’d been drunk, or even taken a vacation. Plus, he really needed a distraction before he sent Draco a long, embarrassing letter. 

“You are right. So, how about you and Hermione come over for dinner? I’ll cook something special.” Harry impulsively blurted.

Ron got up, pulling his auror robe back on. “Sure!”. 

They discussed the details as they took the lift back to the office, talking about the food they missed most from their Hogwarts days. 

...

“Mmmmm something smells good.” Clementine leaned against the doorway into the kitchen, and watched as Harry chopped up some herbs, and then stirred them into a pot on the stove. 

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Beef bourguignon.” He pulled on some oven mitts, and pulled the fresh biscuits out of the oven. 

She looked over at the table, and just shook her head. “I was kind of hoping you were doing all this banging around with pots and pans for a date, but I see there are three places set.”

“It’s just for Ron and Hermione.” It was good that she considered him having a date. Sometimes it felt like people didn’t expect him to want regular things like that in his life. He loved that she wasn’t dazzled by his past at all. “Say, I’ve made way too much. Would you like to join us?”

She looked a bit surprised at the invitation at first, but then gave a pleased smile. “Um, yes...that would be nice. Is there time for me to go home and change?”

Clementine was dressed for the office, in a knee-length skirt and matching blazer in charcoal grey. Her hair was in it’s normal smooth chignon. 

“Yes. They’ll be here in about half an hour.” Most of the food was ready now. He just had to make a salad.

She soon departed, leaving Harry to finish things up. 

...

“So, how awful is it, working for Harry? Do you forgive me for recommending you for this job?” Ron joked, taking a deep swallow of his wine. 

Clementine just grinned back at her older cousin. “I love it here. Although there are some challenging days.”

“Oh shit! You haven’t mentioned anything to me.” Harry leaned towards her to top up her wine glass, before his own. 

She just grinned, giving a little shrug. “It wasn’t anything too bad. Mostly it’s been Mavis Pennyworth. That woman is still determined to have you at their next fundraiser, no matter how firmly I decline.”

It was nice seeing this side of his assistant, dressed in slim jeans and a flowing purple blouse. Her hair was loose down her back, big auburn curls, making her look almost like a teenager. Harry could see why she dressed so conservatively at work, just wanting people to treat her with respect. 

Harry groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “Maybe I should go see her in person. She is quite tenacious.”

Clementine scoffed. “Oh Merlin, please don’t! She will talk you into becoming their spokesperson if you do that.”

Ron and Hermione were just watching the interaction, amused. “What organization is she with?” Hermione asked, running a piece of bread over her plate to soak up the sauce.

Harry looked at their empty plates, and felt buzz of satisfaction. They had raved about the food, but actions spoke louder than words. 

“Some people are offended or disturbed by things other people see as normal. It’s really a matter of perception...” Harry fumbled for the politically correct way to describe it.

Clementine gave him an impatient huff. “Oh, stop pussyfooting around it. No one from the Prophet is here.” She looked over at the couple. “She believes it is indecent for animals to be naked and thinks they should be clothed.”

That sent Ron and Hermione off, laughing and bouncing jokes around with Clementine. 

“Girdles for Turtles!”

“Hats for Bats!”

“Blouses for Mouses!”

Harry eventually joined in, only feeling slightly disloyal to be making fun of the woman’s cause. He cleared away the dinner plates and brought out the dessert.

“Seriously, though, I’ve enjoyed working here.” Clementine took the piece of cake Harry offered. “He has even let me take over the second floor of the house. Although, there were some rather odd things in the drawing room the other day.”

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

It was one thing to come out to his best friend, but he wasn’t ready to tell more people. Not just yet. 

“What kind of things?” Hermione asked, after seeing the way Harry squirmed in his seat. 

Clementine shot Harry a teasing look. “Tea for two, and a blanket left in the middle of the floor. Oh, and the pillows on the sofa were all out of place.”

Hermione just smirked. “Harry James Potter! Have you been having evening callers?”

“That’s my own business, isn’t it?” Harry shot back, knowing his face was flushing a little.

She gave a satisfied grin. “That wasn’t a denial, was it? Hmmmmm....!” Looking over at Ron, she nudged him with her shoulder. “Do you know anything about this?”

“Oh, leave Harry alone. It’s his house, and his right to see old friends if he wants to.” Ron defended, sending Harry a supportive look.

“So, it was an _old friend_ then? Hermione, do you think it’s someone you know as well?” Clementine leaned towards the brunette, looking far too interested in this. 

Harry sighed. “This is what I get for trying to have a personal life. Maybe I should go back to working eighty hour weeks and raising money for ‘Pants for Ants’.”

All three of his friends objected the idea, and they gave him a break from their friendly teasing, moving on to bugging Ron about his latest haircut. His fringe was far too short, and he had tried spiking it upwards, looking a bit like a ginger hedgehog.

...

The days seemed to drag, making Harry realize how much his life had centered around his weekly sessions with Draco lately. How had the man messed up his life so fast? 

There was no point working extra when it would just take hours from the other aurors. Harry ended up being at home too much, and got a bit of cabin fever. 

Out of boredom, he went into the muggle part of London, walking through some of the touristy areas. It was always nice to be anonymous in a crowd. 

A lot of people were heading into Harrod’s, and Harry hadn’t shopped there in years. He wandered around, admiring the beautiful displays and the muggle fashions. 

He found himself in menswear, and realized he hadn’t bought new clothes for ages. His auror robes were supplied by the ministry, and he wore dress robes to charity functions. 

But Draco would be back soon, and Harry wanted to look good for him. Would they go out on dates, or just stay in at Harry’s place?

One of the staff must have seen Harry’s confusion, and offered to help. Harry gladly accepted, and was soon trying on a variety of casual and dressier clothing. 

He was a bit buzzed from his shopping spree, and ended up in the home decor area. Thoughts of Draco had him buying new, luxurious bedding, towels and bathrobes. Helpful staff whisked his purchases away, storing them to let him buy more. 

Somehow, what drew Harry the most was the food hall. Every display case was full with a mind-boggling variety. Hundreds of types of cheeses and deli meats, savory pies, olives, baked goods, and salads. Delicious fragrances coming from the many food counters offering quick meals. 

Harry recognized many things, as Hogwarts always had a wide and plentiful assortment of food. But there were still things that intrigued him and he ended up buying a little of this, a little of that. 

By the time he was leaving, the store had some staff help load everything into a black cab. During the ride to the corner of his street, he did a reduction charm on the goods when the driver was distracted by traffic and consolidated everything into fewer bags. When he stopped, the driver helped him unload it all on to the sidewalk. He looked a bit confused at the smaller quantity.

Harry just shrugged, passing the man his payment with a huge tip. “I ate most of the food during the drive.”

The cash and flimsy excuse seemed to satisfy the cabbie, and Harry was relieved he didn’t need to obliviate his memory. 

...

It took a while to put everything away once it was in the house and back to normal size. He ended up vanishing a lot of old clothes to make room for the new things. 

His kitchen could hardly contain all the food, and he chuckled at himself. He would never be able to finish it all before it spoiled. 

With that, he sent out a handful of letters.

...

Harry opened his door with a smile. “Luna! So glad you could make it. Sorry for the late notice.”

His old friend still had waist-length blond hair, and wore a pretty blue dress. She leaned in to give Harry a hug and kiss his cheek. “I couldn’t pass up on the opportunity to see you and your house.”

He waved her inside, her remarks echoing what so many of the other guests had said. It was great to see that so many had been able to come to this improptu garhering, and seemed to be having a good time. Most were old friends from school, and a few of the aurors he got along with the best. Hermione and Ron had other plans, and promised to come next time. 

The food and drinks were set out so everyone could help themselves. Harry grabbed another bottle of beer, sipping it as he walked around.

Neville, Dean and Seamus were discussing Quidditch. Harry hadn’t been following the sport that closely, but he joined their group for a little while to enjoy hearing them argue.

Luna was with Clementine near the food, and eventually Harry excused himself to join them. He served himself a plate of charcuterie to nibble on. 

“Harry, Clementine says this is the second time this week you have had people over.” Luna popped some fresh pineapple into her mouth. 

He just shrugged. “It seems a shame to have this large house and not make better use of it. Plus it’s always nice to see old friends.”

Clementine smirked at him. “Any old friend in particular?” She was dressed casually again, her green hoodie complimenting her hair color. Even though she was a lot younger than most of the other guests, she was outgoing enough to get along easily with them. 

Luna looked around. “Well, I don’t see Hermione or Ron. They are Harry’s closest friends.”

“Hmmm...I think there might be somebody Harry is ever closer with.” Clementine chuckled, her hazel eyes dancing with mirth. 

“Luna! Have you ever seen the other floors?” Harry grabbed the blonde’s arm, dragging her away from his tipsy assistant before she said too much. He’d have to have a firm talk with her tomorrow. 

His friend followed him up the stairs, admiring Clementine’s areas, and going to the third floor. “Oh Harry, you really should do a cleansing rite on the equinox. So much dark magic has been here.”

“Yes, I want to honor the good parts of house’s history, and Sirius, but get rid of the rest, as much as possible.” Harry looked around the landing with fresh eyes, feeling a little embarrassed with it’s rundown state. He had lived here for years, and not done much with it. 

Luna peered into his bedroom, the new bedding all in place. “Well, at least the bed looks quite inviting. Is that what you brought me up to see?”

Harry’s eyes widened, and he thought about Clementine’s teasing. Had Luna gotten the wrong idea? “Um, no...not really. I actually wanted you to see a room on the next floor that might be full of blibbering humdingers. I swear I hear laughter coming from there sometimes.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. I was a little confused when you asked me up here, since you are mostly attracted to men.” Luna calmly walked past him, climbing the stairs to the next floor. 

Harry was stunned for a moment or two, and then ran up the stairs after her. “Why do you say that? Are people talking about me...”

Laying her hand on his forearm, she leaned a little closer. “It’s been obvious to me since Hogwarts, but I’ve kept it to myself. Most people disregard things I say anyways.”

He grinned in relief. “I wish you had told me back then. I’ve been confused for ages.”

She just nodded serenely at him. “I’m surprised Draco isn’t here.” Luna walked around the floor, idly touching things occasionally.

Harry could only give her a smile. People often thought she was a bit crazy, but Harry had found her surprisingly knowledgeable at times. “He’s away, visiting his mother. Maybe he’ll come to my next party.”

As Luna started telling him about the type of creatures living in the house and how he could deal with them, his mind wandered. Would Draco be comfortable coming to something like this? Seeing old schoolmates? Being Harry’s date?

Eventually, they went back downstairs. Clementine passed him another beer with a smirk. “Hope you didn’t mess up the pillows in the drawing room again.”

Perhaps inviting Clementine to social events had been an error. She was treating him like the rest of the Weasley’s did, like a relative, and therefore a good target for fond teasing. He just gave her a bit of a glare. “Say, have you met Dean or Seamus?” 

He knew the men were single and maybe one of them would interest his young assistant. Perhaps she would start messing up the sofa pillows on her own and quit bugging him.

...

-A/N: Thanks everyone for reading this story, especially with it’s many twists and turns. Harry has a lot to figure out. 


	9. Chapter 9

Harry walked down a London street he had never been to before, looking for the address. It was a lower class neighborhood, with small simple flats and lacking the architectural flourishes of the city’s nicer areas. At least it seemed quiet and orderly. 

Finding the right building, Harry felt odd buzzing the flat. He had lived in the wizarding world so long, muggle technology felt foreign. 

“Come on up,” a scratchy voice intoned from the speaker, and the door gave a long buzz. Harry yanked it open and jogged up the stairs. 

His heart was pounding from more than the light exercise. It had been almost two weeks since they had seen each other. Harry had been pleased to get the invitation to Draco’s flat...a chance to know more about the mysterious man. He tapped lightly on the door. 

“Potter...” Draco’s light eyes scanning over Harry quickly. His lips curved up a little on one side, and Harry’s gaze was drawn there. He found it hard to look away, the urge to step closer and kiss him hello almost too strong to resist. 

Harry entered, brushing against Draco lightly in passing, but kept going until he was in the living room area. It was a small, simple flat, with a sofa and a club chair near the fireplace. Harry could see a small kitchen around the corner and a hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom. 

The most amazing thing was all the books. Bookshelves seemed to line most of the walls, stuffed full. Harry scanned over the titles, seeing a mixture of non-fiction and fiction. A wide range of topics. Titles Harry recognized from his childhood. 

Harry turned to Draco with wide eyes. “You read muggle books too?”

Draco just shrugged, looking a bit uncomfortable. He motioned Harry to follow him to the kitchen, and put the kettle on for tea. “All these years, there wasn’t a lot I could do when I wasn’t working. I didn’t have much money or muggle friends. I kept to myself mostly, and got into reading.”

“Every book there ever was, apparently,” Harry chuckled, glancing towards the stack of books near the small kitchen table.

Draco finished preparing the tea, and carried a laden tray back to the living room. “Hardly," he seemed a little embarrassed, having Harry see such private things and asking him about them. 

Harry poured out the tea once it had steeped. “There must have been more to all this reading than just filling the time, Draco.” He used his best auror look, calmly waiting for an answer.

Tilting his chin up a little defiantly, Draco took a sip from his mug. “I liked school. I couldn’t go for further studies after the war...so I just got books on whatever topic interested me and taught myself.”

Sensing there was more to it than that, Harry let it go for now. “So, how was the trip? How is your mother doing?”

The natural, wide smile that took over Draco’s face left Harry breathless. He looked so young and handsome in that moment. “It was fantastic. A real eye-opener.”

Harry couldn’t help but give a pleased smile in return. “In what way? Did you two go to the peak of some mountain?”

It was a weak joke, but Draco chuckled all the same. It was amazing to see him in such a happy mood. “Well, my mother took me on a gondola up a mountain. There was lots of snow up there and we had a bit of a snowball fight.”

Harry tried to picture that, Draco and Narcissa acting like tourists, riding a gondola just to enjoy the scenery. He couldn’t help but grin at the thought. 

“What?” A look of insecurity flashed across Draco’s face, and his smile dimmed a little. 

Reaching over to Draco, Harry gave his shoulder a comforting pat. “Nothing, nothing...it’s just odd to think of you two doing something that is so...so...,” Harry struggled to find the right word. 

Draco crossed his legs, arching an eyebrow at Harry to finish his sentence.

“Um...normal.” Harry shrugged, taking a sip of tea to avoid saying more.

The comment didn’t seem to bother Draco. He nodded, sipping his tea while he gazed out of the window, seeming lost in thought for a moment. 

He looked back at Harry. “You know, that was how it felt. Normal. Like we were regular, ordinary people. In both the muggle and wizarding areas. It was so strange.”

Harry chuckled, feeling relieved. “That’s how I feel when I’m in muggle areas. It’s so nice not being recognized or treated differently than anybody else.”

“I think vacations are meant to be eye-opening. Show you how things could be different, let you try on a different lifestyle for a little while. See what you like, and what you don’t. See what you miss from back home.” Draco’s mood had mellowed a little, seeming more introspective. 

“Get a fresh perspective on everything.” Harry nodded in understanding. “So, what did you miss?”

Draco scoffed, shifting in his chair. “Well, I didn’t miss our rainy, cold winters. Snow is much prettier. And I didn’t miss my work.” He sighed, looking out towards the window again. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I gave you a very leading question and you answered wrong.”

That got him a smirk in reply. “Oh, really? What is the correct answer?”

“That you missed me, of course,” Harry said, going for flirty and hoping it didn’t come across as desperate. 

Draco gave Harry a slow smile, his voice dropping lower. “Come here, and I’ll show you how much I missed you.” 

Harry moved fast to sit beside Draco on the sofa. They both leaned in, for a good, deep kiss, that lasted far longer than Harry thought it would, with Draco’s hand digging into his hair and keeping him close. 

Harry felt a bit dazed when Draco finally let him go. “I missed you too. Missed this.”

That led to more kissing, hungry and increasing in intensity. Within a few minutes, Draco was lying half on top of Harry, his hair messy and lips a bit swollen. He tucked his face against Harry’s neck, breathing faster.

Harry wanted more, but didn’t push for it, simply running his hands over Draco’s back. He was hard, and thought he had felt that Draco was as well, shifting against each other. 

Eventually, Draco sighed, rolling on to his side so they weren’t in contact as much. “I’m sorry...things with you... having you as a client, our past, everything...,” he said softly, his troubled eyes catching Harry’s before looking down at the top button of his shirt. “I’m kind of mixed up about everything.”

Harry felt a bit disappointed, but tried to understand. “Is that why you said we couldn’t continue with the rest of the sessions?” The abrupt way Draco had declined the idea last time had stung.

Nodding, Draco shifted to be sitting up, running his hands through his hair to straighten it. “I’ve been a dom for years, but never had a client I knew so well in the past.”

Harry sat up too, wanting to touch Draco to comfort him but unsure if it would be welcomed. “I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable.”

Catching his gaze for a long moment, Draco seemed to be trying to tell if Harry was sincere in that. He eventually sighed, looking away. “You can use the rest of the sessions with someone else. I don’t want you to miss out just because of me.”

Harry scoffed at the thought of going to another man. “I couldn’t care less about the rest of that package. I’m just interested in you, Draco.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Like I have so much to offer. A fucked up ex-death eater dom with no money and no life.”

Taking Draco’s hand, Harry leaned in against his side. “You are so much more than that.”

Not seeming too convinced, Draco at least didn’t argue the point or pull away. They sat in silence for a few minutes. 

Eventually, Draco let go of Harry’s hand, and dug into a nearby messenger bag. “I want to show you something.” He pulled out some papers and shoved them at Harry with no explanation. 

The documents were obviously old, the paper brittle and the edges curled. Harry scanned over them, seeing mentions of the name Rosier and a property appearing a few times. “What is this about?” 

Draco took the sheets back, looking down at them reverently, and setting them down on a nearby table. “My mother and I had some long talks, and she could tell I wasn’t happy. So, she gave me this...,” he waved towards the papers. “It’s the deed for an old property that she recently inherited from an uncle on her mother’s side. A Rosier. Some reclusive relative of hers that she only met a couple times.”

“And you are going to move there? Where is it?” Harry was alarmed. They were just starting something here, and Draco was going to move away?

Draco chuckled, putting an arm over Harry’s shoulders and giving him a comforting half-hug. “No, no...nothing like that.” He left his arm there, and Harry loved the casual touch. “I’m going to sell the property, and use the money to start a new life.”

“So, you are going to quit your job?” Harry was rocked by this revelation. His mind was a whirl of possibilities.

Nodding, Draco’s wide grin was back. “A few clients have only a couple sessions left, so I'll finish up with them. The rest will likely stay with the co-workers who covered for me while I was away. The other doms don’t have the no sex rule.”

It was great seeing the spark of excitement and possibility in his eyes, and Harry squeezed his hand. “I’m happy for you, Draco. You deserve this.”

Draco squeezed back. “I need to go up there this weekend, and get it ready to sell. Take anything I want to keep, clean up the rest.”

“Need any help?” Harry offered impulsively. It was mostly selfishly motivated, not wanting Draco to be away again so soon.

Draco’s eyes widened a little in surprise, and he looked a bit pleased. But then he sighed, his eyes falling to his lap. “You mentioned last time that we should be discrete. I don’t think traveling together is the best idea.”

“I’m sure we can figure something out.” Harry said quickly, not willing to give up on the idea yet. A whole weekend together? Just getting to be alone with Draco, getting to know him better, was a very tempting thought.

It took a bit of discussion, but by the time they shared a quick goodbye kiss, they had a plan in place. Harry walked home in a daze, feeling more excited about the trip than he had been about anything else for years.

...

Harry had always enjoyed muggle travel, looking out on the scenery and feeling the anticipation building with the slow pace. They had taken a portkey most of the way, and were now on a thirty minute ferry to a small island. 

Turning towards Draco, he admired how relaxed and happy he looked, dressed in a thick, dark red jumper, black jeans and a knit cap over his hair. He truly was a handsome man, his slim frame making him look taller than he actually was. 

It was good seeing him away from the city, out in this lush, green rugged landscape. Some areas reminded him of Hogwarts, and the raw beauty of the Scottish highlands where they had spent so many years. 

“We better get back in the car,”Harry pulled the keys out of his pocket. 

Nodding, Draco turned and followed Harry to the blue Mini Cooper. He had been quite amused when Harry had rented the vehicle, and watching him drive it to the ferry terminal earlier. But now, he simply got in and did up his seatbelt. 

It wasn’t long before the ferry docked and they were driving on to the island. “You will have to direct me,” Harry carefully maneuvered the car along the narrow road.

“What? How?” Draco seemed thrown by the request.

Chuckling, Harry grabbed a map of the island from the pocket on his door, and passed it to Draco. “Do you know how maps work?”

Traveling with someone really showed you a lot about each other. Harry had never realized how much he understood the muggle world from his early childhood years. There were many things he took for granted as common knowledge that totally threw Draco, who had lived most of his life in the wizarding world. 

Snatching the paper, Draco practically snarled at Harry. “Yes, I’m sure I can figure this out.”

But after seeing how Draco kept rotating and squinting at it, Harry finally pulled the car over to the side of the road. “Give it to me.”

The blond huffed, but didn’t argue, passing the paper over.

Harry quickly got his bearings. “What was the address again?”

In this, Draco was helpful. They figured out the route on the small island and were soon heading west.

Harry parked the car, and they got out, eagerly looking over the grey stone cottage. It was small and simple, obviously quite old. The garden was overgrown, with ivy going a bit wild on one side of the building. A cliff dropping off to the turbulent sea was close enough they could hear the waves pounding onto the rocks below. Sea birds swirled and cawed, diving often to catch fish. 

They entered, looking around curiously. It was a cozy space, with a large fireplace on one wall with an old sofa close by. A beat up wooden table with a couple chairs was in a basic kitchen area. Harry opened another door and saw it was a tiny bathroom. 

Draco was at the base of a rickety wooden staircase, looking upwards towards a loft area. After gingerly going up a couple of steps, he seemed to find it structurally sound and climbed to the top. Harry heard him walking around up there while he took a closer look at the main floor. 

It was a little cluttered and messy, but he could see it was a comfortable home for a man on his own. Someone who liked his own company. The island had only about a hundred residents, with houses nicely spread out. It was probably a five-minute walk to the closest neighbor.

Harry grinned at Draco as he came back down the stairs. “This man was definitely a relative of yours.” He nodded towards the bookshelves that stretched high on every available wall, packed full. 

Draco chuckled. “There’s even more piled up next to his bed.”

“It’s not in that bad a shape. I was expecting it to be more run down.” 

Nodding, Draco wandered over to the bookshelf, and started scanning over the titles. 

Just smirking at his clearly distracted friend, Harry went out to the car to get some boxes. He could already tell Draco wouldn’t be leaving the books behind, no matter how crowded his flat already was. “Look, how about you work on packing up the books? I’ll pack up his clothes and other things you don’t want. Maybe there is a thrift shop in the town we can donate his stuff to.”

Leaving some boxes for Draco, Harry went upstairs. The loft only covered one end of the cottage, above the kitchen and bathroom area, and only had a double bed, a bedside table covered in books, and a wardrobe. Harry found his eyes drawn to that bed, wondering what the sleeping arrangements would be later on. His breath came a little faster as that started a whole series of new fantasies.

...

A few hours later, the car was full of boxes of clothing and kitchenware for donation. Boxes of books were stacked near the cottage doorway. Both Draco and Harry were a bit dirty from the work, feeling tired and hungry. 

“Come on. I’ll treat you to lunch at the pub.” Draco pulled his jumper back on, and headed out to the car. 

Harry drove them back towards the ferry dock area in the center of the L-shaped island. There were a few buildings clustered there. “We should pick up some groceries for dinner and breakfast before we head back.” Unfortunately, there hadn't been that much work to do at the cottage, and Draco had said they might as well head back the next day. If it had been up to Harry, they would have stayed longer just to enjoy the island.

It was a quick drive, and they enjoyed the lush green scenery in silence. Harry liked that they were getting comfortable enough around each other to not feel the need to constantly talk. He just liked being around Draco. 

The pub was small and ancient, but the food was tasty and filling. Draco chatted with their server about his relative, and asked about where to take the donations. Harry was content to sip his lager and relax. He hadn’t been away from the city for ages and was enjoying the laid back, friendly manner of the locals. 

Afterwards, they dropped off the boxes at the church, for their next fundraising rummage sale. They bought food at the grocery and stashed it in the car. Harry liked doing these simple things with someone else, and chuckled a little at the thought of being so ‘domestic’ with Draco Malfoy. A big enemy of his school days. His dom until a few weeks ago. And now? What were they? Friends? Something more than that?

Maybe by the time they left, they could be more than that. Lovers. Harry swallowed hard at the thought, pushing down the immediate rush of arousal that came with it. Since they had agreed to go on this trip, Harry’s imagination had been in overdrive. Even Ron had commented on how distracted he was at work.

Draco hadn’t given any signals that he was thinking similar thoughts though. He had been friendly and seemed to be enjoying the trip, Harry’s company and his help. But he hadn’t touched or kissed Harry at all. 

Harry had been often tempted, but had held back. Was Draco acting like straight friends for the locals? Was he still interested in Harry, or had his feelings faded? Although he seemed to like what they had done the last couple of times they were together, he had always been the one to pull away first, to slow things down when Harry would have let them continue. Was he just not feeling it as much as Harry was? 

As much as he wanted more, Harry was still feeling cautious, not wanting to go too far and have Draco leave like he had at their last session at the brothel. He would be friendly and flirt a bit, go very slow for anything more. 

“Let’s go in here.” Draco’s voice broke through Harry’s musings, and he followed his friend’s gaze to a used bookshop. 

Harry groaned. “Really? You’ve just spent half a day packing up boxes of books, and you want more? I wonder if there are any 12 step programs out there for book addicts.”

Smirking, Draco dragged him into the shop. It was small but well organized, the tall bookshelves neatly labeled with categories. Draco seemed enraptured, his attention fully focused on scanning every title. 

Chuckling to himself, Harry left him to it. He smiled at the older woman behind the counter, and casually perused in the fiction area. He really hadn’t had the time to read books for years, maybe since Hogwarts. Maybe it was something he could get back into now.

It was a muggle island, and he ended up with a few paperbacks before heading to the cookbook section. He had continued cooking most days, often inviting various friends over to share the food, finding he remembered most of his rusty cooking skills. 

Draco appeared at his side, looking down at the old edition of ‘The Joy of Cooking’ Harry was flipping through with a raised eyebrow. 

“What?” Harry asked, feeling a bit defensive. “I like cooking. I did most of it at the Dursley’s before I went to Hogwarts.”

Leaning closer so they wouldn’t be overheard, Draco spoke softly. “Wizards don’t cook, Harry. It’s a house elf job.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’d starve to death if I waited for Kreacher to feed me. Besides, I’m a good cook. How do you think my uncle and cousin got so fat?”

Draco grinned, and took the other books Harry was holding, making disgusted noises at each one. “Tom Clancy? Stephen King?”

Harry grabbed them back. “Oh, and I’m sure you only picked out Pulitzer Prize winners?”

“No, but I think you can aim a little higher than that.” Draco said, before carrying his armload of books over to the till.

Shrugging off Draco’s critique of his book selections, Harry continued to poke around the shop. He saw a book that had been popular in recent years, and added it to his purchases. 

Draco only rolled his eyes at it, making Harry chuckle as he paid the shopkeeper.

...

“Hmmmm...this character has just said he is ‘fifty shades of fucked-up’. Would you say you were like that too?” Harry lowered his paperback enough to look over at Draco. 

Draco rolled his eyes. “Merlin, please don’t compare me to that drivel.” He went back his Cormac McCarthy novel. The nearby fire flickered, highlighting his silver eyes, his messy blond hair. 

Harry grinned, feeling good and just wanting to tease Draco some more. “I’m learning a lot about dom and sub rolls here. He’s also saying there is a very fine line between pleasure and pain, one not existing without the other.”

They had eaten the sandwiches and salad they bought for supper, and had been reading in front of the fire for a while now. It was so peaceful, the sound of the ocean waves outside, the crackle of the fire, and Draco’s company.

Draco sighed, and put his book on the table next to the sofa they were on. Reaching over, he took the book from Harry’s grasp, and looked it over. He didn’t seem impressed. With a quick flick of his wrist, the book went flying, landing right in the middle of the fire.

Harry just stared at the book for a moment in shock before a bubble of laughter rose up in him. “I can’t believe you just did that! You love books!” The book was burning fast, the flames licking across the cover and curling the blackened edges of the pages. 

“There aren’t many books I would burn, but that is one of them.” Draco showed no remorse, a slight grin curling up one side of his mouth. “At least now I won’t have to hear you spouting off bullshit for the rest of the night.”

Harry was more amused than irritated. “You could have shut me up other ways.”

Draco gave him an assessing look, before gazing back into the fire. He sighed. “Yes, but I didn’t bring a ball gag or anything else with me.”

The image sent an unexpected pang of arousal right through Harry, and his breath caught at the images that flashed through his mind. Harry, stripped down to his underwear, ball gag in his mouth, sitting on the rug on the floor in front of the sofa, reading. Draco, stretched out along the sofa, wearing a silk robe with little underneath, reading his book. One hand stroking and playing with Harry’s hair, petting him.

Harry swallowed hard. “Um...no...I meant by kissing me.” He had behaved all day, keeping his distance when there had been a thousand times when he wanted to touch Draco. Wrapping his arm around his waist when they were on the ferry, cuddling against his side. Taking his hand in the pub while they waited for lunch, wanting to explore his long fingers. Pinning him against the door of the cottage when they returned later, kissing him until they were both panting and needy. 

He waited, heart pounding, watching for Draco’s response. Had he said too much, making it awkward when they had enjoyed the day so much?

Draco gave a small, pleased smile, leaning in to Harry. Closing his eyes, Harry let Draco take the lead, wanting him so much but wanting to go at Draco’s pace. 

Soft lips touched Harry’s, warm from the fire, dragging and teasing gently. Draco’s hand came up to cup along Harry’s jaw, as the kiss deepened. When Draco nudged Harry to lie down, he eagerly stretched out, watching with hooded eyes as the blond laid on his side beside him. 

Harry expected things to heat up then, already so aroused, but Draco stayed with the slow, thorough kisses. His hand rested on Harry’s chest, not moving to undo the buttons of his shirt. He seemed content to just kiss, and Harry relaxed into it.

They shifted a little after a few minutes, Harry turning on his side also so they could face each other. He ran a hand through Draco’s hair, moving it back from his face, liking the silky texture of it. Draco was kissing down his neck, his breathing a little faster. Nuzzling close to Harry’s ear, he could definitely hear it, and it was so erotic knowing Draco was affected by all this too. 

After another ten minutes or so, Draco pulled back, and reached for a throw pillow. Harry obligingly lifted his head so Draco could put it in place, and they both rested their heads on it, faces only a couple inches apart. Draco traced over Harry’s face lightly with his fingers, along his brow, over his cheekbone, feeling the slight whiskers along his jaw. 

“Is this OK? Going slow?” Draco’s voice was barely a whisper, his eyes dark grey in the shadows and hard to read. He seemed younger like this, nothing like his dom demeanor. Just Draco, being himself, and Harry felt privileged to see him this way. 

Harry gave a small nod followed by a light, reassuring kiss. “I love this. Just being with you.”

Draco chuckled slightly. “I drag you off to some secluded cabin and don’t even have the decency to shag you rotten. I’m not living up to my bad reputation at all.”

Laughing along, Harry knew there was some truth beneath the joke. “You don’t have to be the dom or the ex-death eater with me. You are just Draco, and I want to get to know you as you are now. Let’s leave the past behind.”

“But is that really possible?” Draco sighed. “Sometimes I wonder how much of why we are drawn together now is because of those years of being on opposite sides at Hogwarts. The war. And then having you as a client...”

Harry felt concerned, worried that Draco was going to pull away again. Think this was all too much bother, too messy. “Most of that was over ten years ago. I think we have both had time to come to peace with it, have seen it with more mature eyes.”

Draco shook his head. “But it’s still affecting us everyday. I work in a brothel. You are still recognized and asked to give speeches.”

“You know, getting the package might have been a gag gift, but the minute you pulled back your hood in that room, it was like I woke up from sleep walking. I had been living day to day, working hard, long hours, and going to charity events often. Helping however I could. Trying to get the world back into a good place.” Harry looked up at the ceiling, piecing things together in his head.

Draco scoffed. “And I knocked some sense into you?”

Harry gave a little shrug and smirked. “It certainly shook me up. You crashed into my life and stirred everything up. You made me question everything. I finally realized that the world had settled down to normal, and I don’t need to work so much.”

“Whatever will people do without Harry Potter to save them?” Draco smirked a little.

Knowing he was just teasing, Harry chuckled. “Get along fine without me. The big question is what I want to do with all my free time.”

Draco nodded. “Tell me about it! Things have changed lots for me as well. You crashed into my life and stirred it up too. Sent me on that Swiss trip and here we are now. What will I do when I’m not at the brothel anymore?”

“Do you think you will make enough from selling this place that you won’t have to work again?” Harry glanced around the room, trying to think of how much the place was worth. 

Chuckling, Draco shook his head. “I wish! Nah, but enough that I can take off a few months and figure out what I want to do next. Maybe put money down on a new place to live.”

“Any ideas for the type of work you want to do? Go back and become a teacher at Hogwarts?” Harry asked, thinking of Neville working there in Herbology. Draco had always done great in Potions.

Draco rolled his eyes at the suggestion. “I doubt they would let me near students with my past. I really don’t know what I’ll do yet. It’s exciting and a bit scary.”

Taking a chance, Harry leaned in to give Draco a kiss. “Well, you know I have lots of time on my hands. I’ll help you any way I can.” 

He hoped the kiss would lead to more, get things started again. Instead Draco sat up and stretched, arching his back. 

“Thanks, Harry. Well, I’m going to go to bed now. Are you OK sleeping down here?” Draco stood up, and grabbed the pillow and thick blanket from a nearby chair to pass them to Harry.

They had briefly discussed the sleeping arrangements earlier in the day, when they had packed everything up. Draco had left enough bedding for both of them. Harry had hoped the extra blanket wouldn’t be needed. Had hoped he would be going up the stairs with Draco, sharing the big bed. 

He was a bit disappointed, but didn’t let it show. “Of course, Draco. Goodnight.”

Draco used the bathroom first, exiting in a baggy t-shirt and plaid pajama bottoms. Taking his book with him, he went upstairs, and Harry could hear him settling into the bed as he went into the bathroom himself.

By the time he was done, the fire had burned down to glowing embers. He banked the fire, making sure it would release enough heat to keep the small cottage warm overnight. It gave off a faint glow.

Arranging the pillow and blanket on the sofa, Harry was comfortable enough, and tired from the busy day. But as he tried to drop off into sleep, his thoughts kept running over everything that had happened. Thinking back on how Draco had looked, what he had said, how he had reacted to being around Harry. It had been a good day, getting along easily, joking and teasing each other often. 

Harry thought back on making out with Draco, loving all the slow kisses even though they had left him unsatisfied. They were so different than the hot, rushed kisses from the muggle guys he had hooked up with, the focus in those times more about quickly getting each other off. 

With Draco, kissing was the focus. It was amazing how good they were, unrushed, lingering, teasing. Letting them both savor brushing their lips together, feeling the slight rasp of whiskers, bumping noses, breathing faster. Incredibly intimate, aware every second that he was kissing Draco. Opening his eyes a crack between kisses just to see Draco so close, his eyes usually closed, getting lost in it. Beautiful. 

Harry hadn’t been sure if gay men did things like making out. Any gay porn he had occasionally viewed on his rickety computer seemed to be more similar to his drunken hook-ups. A few fast kisses to get things going and then getting right into sex. 

He had never read a book featuring a gay relationship, couldn’t recall seeing anything about it on the telly when he had lived at the Dursleys. They usually watched programs in the living room, chatting with each other, when Harry worked in the kitchen. He caught the gist of the shows from the audio he could hear. 

He hadn’t been around many openly gay men, besides Charlie at holiday meals. Charlie never seemed to be in a relationship, so no opportunities to learn much about them there either. 

Things so far with Draco felt like the early stages of relationships he had had with women in many ways. Getting to know each other, flirting and teasing each other, long lingering looks on both sides making it obvious there was more to it than just being friends. Definitely mutual attraction, Harry was relieved to find. 

While kissing Draco seemed a little like his first, fumbling kisses with girlfriends, taking things slow, that was where the similarity ended. Harry had always been fine with a slow pace with women, enjoying being with them, feeling mildly aroused but not overly eager to move things along. 

But with Draco, as much as he loved kissing, being close and intimate, he burned for the man. Just being near him, smelling his light cologne or soap, hearing his voice, looking his fill, Harry reacted like he never had before. It felt like he had a low, constant awareness of the man, a buzz of arousal that surged up at the tiniest things. A sexy half smile made a pang of pure desire shoot through his body, usually right to his cock. 

Now, thinking so much about the man, it was no wonder he was rock hard, throbbing after a long day of being around Draco so much. Harry bent his knees, letting the blanket tent over his body, and eased his loose pajama bottoms down. He almost groaned, wrapping his hand around his erection. 

His eyes flicked up to the loft, where it was dark and quiet. It was open to the rest of the house, with only a railing instead of a full wall at the top of the stairs. Was Draco fast asleep up there? Could he hear Harry at all?

Was he doing the same thing up there?

Harry had to bite down on the blanket to keep from making a noise at that thought. Imagining Draco lying on the bed, hand around his own cock, thinking about Harry. 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

A quietly mumbled spell and Harry was fucking up into his own fist, the lube making it slick and so, so good. He couldn’t hold back, too horny after being around Draco all day. The old sofa creaked softly with his motions but he was too far gone to care. He could only keep from groaning, trying not to loudly pant. He came faster than normal, the orgasm intense. 

As he cooled down and cleaned up, he wondered how loud he had actually been. Had Draco been able to hear him? Would it turn him on if he had? 

He had watched Harry jerk off during their last session, and he had quickly left the room before Harry could tell what had happened. Had it been disgust at Harry’s brazen behavior that made him go like that? Had he been aroused at all by it? That whole session had been different from the others, Draco taking his shirt off, touching his back in the cool down. Harry’s obsessed mind had taken them as signs of interest from Draco, when they might not have meant anything at all. 

Maybe things between them would continue to progress at this slow pace, and eventually they would have sex. Perhaps, they would be comfortable with each other by then to discuss it, joke about it. _Hey, remember that time I wanked in front of you and you escaped as soon as you could and didn’t talk to me for weeks? Did you find it at all hot?_

Chuckling softly to himself, Harry rolled on to his side and went to sleep.

…

-A/N: Ahhhh…the fragile start of a new relationship…  
Thanks for reading this odd story! The boys are on a rocky, twisty road.

-Rathlin Island: The stone cottage is on the west side of Rathlin Island, off the Northern Ireland coast. Beautiful and rugged. A 3 minute video of the island is [here.](http://visitantrimglens.com/member/rathlin-island-ferry-cargo-passengers-all-year-service/)

-Game of Thrones: The show films a lot in this gorgeous area. The Fairhead cliffs are across the water from Rathlin Island, rising 600 feet tall. A clip of Jon Snow on top of the cliff talking to Tyrion Lannister is [here.](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=gFF-NVY7JBI)

-Fifty Shades of Grey: Harry buys a used copy of the paperback from the bookstore to bug Draco. Draco ends up burning it because he is a bit of a book snob.  
I liked the book series overall and found it inspiring as a fanfiction writer that the books have done so well, coming from Twilight fanfiction. Ironically, I found the relationship somewhat irritating when they were outside the 'red room of pain', with Christian controlling Anastasia in a stalker-ish way that is very similar to how Edward treated Bella. 


	10. Chapter 10

Small noises were pulling Harry out of a sexy dream, and he almost grumbled aloud for them to quiet down so he could fall back asleep, continue it. 

But the noises continued, getting louder, ending with the soft clunk of a tray being set down on the table in front of the sofa. “Wake up, lazy bones. I brought you breakfast.”

Harry cracked his eyes open with a yawn, stretching and shifting on the sofa, trying to gather his thoughts and wake up. He had never been much of a morning person. His motions made the blanket slip off him, pooling on the floor.

His pajama bottoms hid nothing, his normal morning state even more enhanced by the dream he had just been pulled from. Swearing to himself, Harry bent down and yanked the blanket back over himself before looking hesitantly up at Draco. 

Draco was still in his sleepwear, his hair wonderfully messy. He looked frozen in place, hardly even breathing, just staring down at Harry’s lap. It took a second or two before he came out of that state, moving a couple steps closer, his hand reaching down for the edge of the blanket and pulling it back. 

Harry was too shocked to do anything but lie there, frozen himself, heart pounding, cock still rock hard. Draco staring at the way his pajama bottoms were blatantly tented out. Then he shocked Harry even more, crawling right over him and kissing him hard.

Moaning, Harry’s arms went around Draco to pull him in tight, returning the kisses with equal fervour, completely lost in the moment. His whole world was this magnificent man lying on top of him, his kisses unrestrained. 

Draco shifted away, and Harry whined softly in protest, not wanting it to all be over yet, but fell back against the sofa when he realized that Draco was untying the drawstring on his pajamas and pushing the material down. His heart was racing as Draco wrapped his fingers around his erection, hissing in pleasure as his hips twitched involuntarily upwards. 

Stroking slowly now, Draco shifted to press against Harry’s hip, making Harry gasp to feel how hard he was as well. Draco kissed him again.

“Oh Merlin...touch me too...,” Draco moaned, letting his head drop to Harry’s neck, his own breathing fast. 

Harry didn’t need to be asked twice. His hands went right to Draco’s waistband, thankful that he could just push it downwards and reach inside. Draco felt perfect in his hand, hot and hard. He matched his strokes to Draco’s, staring into his darkened grey eyes, feeling completely connected. 

It didn’t last long, a few amazing, breathless minutes. Draco gasped, cumming first, throwing his head back and his pale skin flushing as he moaned. He looked beautiful, so abandoned in his pleasure, it sent Harry over the edge, shaking in Draco’s arms. It was intense, and he was glad to be already lying down, just relaxing into the cushions with a spent Draco still draped over him.

As Harry regained his breath, he stroked his hands up and down Draco’s back, just wanting to touch him everywhere. 

“Oh, I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Draco said softly, his face still tucked against Harry’s neck. 

Harry’s hands stilled on his back. “Don’t be sorry, Draco. That was the absolute best way to wake up.”

There was a second pause, and Draco lifted his head to look down at Harry, his eyes searching. “You weren’t even fully awake, and I was just crawling all over you...”

Glancing down at Draco’s swollen lips, Harry just really wanted to kiss him some more. “Yeah, and that was so hot.”

He met Draco’s gaze, letting him see he was perfectly happy with what had just happened. Finally, the apologetic expression on Draco’s face eased, and he rolled to the side, off Harry, giving a slight grimace at the mess they had made of their clothes and the blanket. 

Chuckling, Harry grabbed his wand and cleaned everything up. He also reheated the coffee on the tray. 

A couple minutes later, they were sitting side by side on the sofa, blanket draped over them, coffee cups clasped in their hands. They ate the scones with jam, sneaking glances at each other. 

When Draco finished eating, Harry took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m really OK with what happened earlier, but I feel like you aren’t.”

Draco took a long sip of coffee, and sighed. “I’ve been trying to take things slow between us, and I screwed it all up in a moment of weakness.”

“You didn’t screw anything up. We can go back to how it was before if you want.” Harry didn’t really want that, but he would agree to almost anything to keep Draco around. 

The offer didn’t seem to mollify Draco, still staring down at his coffee cup. “Look, I know we are attracted to each other, but I wanted to take things slow to be able to figure out if there is anything really to it before we get too deeply involved. I don’t want to get hurt, and I’m sure you don’t either.”

Harry was glad Draco was talking openly about this. “And you think sex will be...um...” He couldn’t think of how to phrase it.

“We could just jump into bed together and have a few weeks or months of fun together. But once the novelty of that fades, we would be just ourselves and I want to make sure there is something real there.” Draco seemed to be talking from experience.

Harry wondered about his past relationships, feeling a pang of jealousy. Had Draco been with a lot of men? Been hurt when they didn’t stuck around? Had they made him false promises or faked feelings to get in his bed? 

But then he replayed Draco’s words in his head, and he felt a surge of excitement. “Do you really think of us that way? Having potential to be a real couple long term?” 

He was imagining walking down a street, holding hands, dressed up nicely, going into a fancy restaurant. A real date, acting like any other couple. In public. Out. Was that even possible?

Draco gave him a long searching look, his eyes troubled. He seemed to be really considering it. Harry’s heart pounded, waiting for the answer.

Eventually, Draco gave a small nod. “I think there is something really here. A small flame we could carefully feed to let it grow into a proper fire.”

Part of Harry felt elated at the answer, but he could see Draco was still holding something back. “But...,” he prompted.

Draco took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “There are so many things that could prevent us from getting there, Harry. Is our attraction just fuelled by being enemies in the past? Or by those sessions at the brothel? How are we going to handle the past if we are going out in public together? Do we talk to the press or ignore them? How do we handle coming out? Together, or on our own?”

Harry knew it was all true, and it was so discouraging. Why did everything in his life have to be so public, so difficult? He just wanted to date someone he was interested in. 

“I think you are right, Draco.” Reaching over, he took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I think we have real potential between us, and we need to take it slow. We will have to face all those obstacles together, take them apart one by one. Figure out the best way to do it.”

Draco gave Harry a small smile, looking pleased. He leaned closer, and they shared a soft kiss. So much different from the ones before breakfast. This one was like a shaking hands after making a pact, agreeing to give this fragile beginning a chance to grow, to work together through the upcoming hard times. 

Harry stood up, pulling Draco with him, and gave him a long, full body hug. His feelings for this man were a jumbled mess, swirling around inside of him, but overall, he felt an attraction stronger than he’d ever had for anyone else. 

Draco returned the hug, sinking against Harry in a way that felt so good. He wasn’t holding back, allowing full body contact. 

They pulled back, and Harry turned away to dash a hand near his eye to catch a tear before it fell. When he looked back, Draco looked similarly affected by their heart to heart talk, his smile tremulous. 

“Let’s finish packing up the car and have lunch at the pub, OK?” Draco got back into work mode, looking around the cottage.

They moved the boxes to the car and took a last look around. The cottage was clean and empty except for the simple furniture. The empty bookshelves looked odd. Would a future owner ever need so much storage in such a tiny cottage? Good thing Draco was able to perform a _Reducio_ charm on the books, or they would have never been able to fit them all into the Mini.

After quick showers, they were soon dressed and driving to the pub. 

...

The ferry ride back was bittersweet for Harry. Soon, they would be dropping off the boxes at the muggle post office to be shipped to Draco’s flat, and Harry would return the rental car. The portkey back would be fast. It had been a great trip, just getting the chance to spend so much time together. But when could they see each other again?

At lunch, they hadn’t been able to really work out what to do next in their relationship. Draco had been afraid of dating discretely too long, since they would probably end up mostly hanging out at each other’s places, and would be too easy to fall into bed together. But going out in public was risky at this stage too, even in muggle areas. Wizards and witches could be anywhere. They had decided to think everything over and talk in a few days. 

Harry didn’t like the vague promise. It had been so nice having those weekly appointments, looking forward all week to seeing Draco, letting the excitement and anticipation build. There was a bit of security in knowing he would be seeing Draco twelve times.

That was all gone now. They were in the exciting but scary phase of a relationship, where you have admitted to liking each other, and agreed to give it a go. Harry tried not to think about all the obstacles they faced, and tried to enjoy these last few minutes of their trip.

Draco was looking good, even though his knit cap pulled right down, and a scarf wrapped around his neck against the cold. His bulky dark green rain jacket flapped a bit in the wind. He was looking towards the imposing cliffs of Fairhead, admiring the breathtaking scenery.

It was cold and threatening to rain, so most of the ferry passengers stayed in their cars. Harry was glad to have this time alone, sticking close to Draco, wanting so much to hold his hand. But far too soon, the ferry was maneuvering towards the dock. Harry and Draco headed back into the Mini.

Rain drops speckled over the windscreen, sparkling like jewels in the late afternoon sun that occasionally peaked through the clouds. They waited in silence in the car as the ferry docked. 

Harry reached over, taking Draco’s hand, needing to touch him while he still could. Draco squeezed it back, his eyes meeting Harry’s and he could see he was feeling similar. They leaned in, sharing a long, deep kiss. A goodbye kiss, knowing they would be in more public areas soon. 

The honk of a nearby car broke them apart, and Harry realized that the cars had started to drive off the ferry. He fumbled to start the car, and lurched forward to follow the others. Draco just chuckled beside him. 

...

-A/N: Some happy, sexy times...


	11. Chapter 11

**HARRY POTTER GAY!**

**The Chosen One Chooses Men!**

**What Really Happened Between Harry Potter and His ‘Girlfriend’ Ginny Weasley?  
** **What Really Happened Between Harry Potter and Voldemort?  
**Get the REAL Story Here!****

**Who was Harry Potter Away With For A Dirty Weekend? Pictures Inside!**

**Identity of Harry Potter’s Secret Gay Lover Finally Revealed!**

Harry pulled up the collar of his coat, ducking his head down, as he rushed along the street. Everywhere he looked, it seemed like corner stores and newsstands were covered with massive, awful headlines about him. Speculating on how long he had been gay, digging up any old picture of him standing beside a man, speculating that they had been secret lovers. It was all made up, not any truth to any of the sensationalistic crap the papers pumped out, looking for a quick buck. 

It had been like this all week, and Harry had kept himself hidden away in the office or at home. His manager had given him a pile of old paperwork to work through, knowing he was too exhausted from it all to focus on work in the field. 

His co-workers gave their support quietly, patting him on the back and giving him his space. Silently letting him know they were OK with him being gay. They were mostly younger men and women, raised in a time where the muggle and wizarding worlds were becoming much more tolerant of different sexualities. 

But the general public was far more mixed in their reactions to the news. He was supported by some, insulted by others. Either way, it was a hot press item and Harry was heartedly sick of it.

He slammed the door of his house shut with a bang that rocked the walls. Shrugging off his wet coat, he hung it on the coat rack and kicked off his boots, not caring that they landed halfway down the hallway.

Clementine stood on the last step of the staircase, no doubt roused from her office by his noise. “My oh my, must you make such a racket?”

Her tone was teasing but Harry was in no mood for it today. He snarled, pushing past her to stomp up the stairs. 

She was light-footed, running past him to stand on the second floor landing, blocking his way. “Enough, Harry. I’m sick of having you act like this in the house. Now get changed into some comfortable clothes and meet me in the drawing room in five minutes. We are going to work this out.”

Her firm, commanding tone was backed up by an imposing glare that Professor McGonagall would have approved of. She didn’t wait for a response from Harry, spinning to march into her office and slamming the door behind her. 

Huffing in frustration, Harry continued to his bedroom on the third floor. He continued to slam doors and stomp around, knowing the infuriating woman was right below and could hear everything. 

Sighing, he went back downstairs, and went in to the drawing room. He had calmed down a little, the door slamming working out a some of his frustration. Now he was just feeling exhausted, burnt out. He slumped on the sofa near the blazing fireplace, taking some comfort in the warmth and comforting crackle.

Clementine came in, setting a bottle of firewhiskey and two tumblers on the coffee table. She poured two fingers worth of the dark golden liquid into each glass, and clinked one against the other before taking a long sip. She gazed down at Harry until he shrugged and picked up the other glass. 

The strong liquor burned as it slid down Harry’s throat, and he set the empty glass down with a grimace. Firewhiskey had never been his preferred drink. 

“I can’t believe you gulped it down like that! This is one of the highest rated peaty firewhiskies of the year.” Clementine poured him another drink, sitting back on the other sofa and crossing her legs.

Harry scoffed. “You are barely old enough to drink. You are probably still spiking your butterbeer.”

The young woman gave Harry a calm, level look. “Highland Peak is initially aged in bourbon barrels before being matured in quarter casks. The nose yields peppery peat, coffee grounds and mild wood-fire embers. The palate is complex and rich, offering orange segments sprinkled with sea salt, dark chocolate, malt, and ever-present sweet peat. Lengthy finish, with darker, spicier notes.”

Harry gaped at her for a minute or two, and then chuckled. “Orange segments sprinkled with sea salt? You completely made that up.”

“I did a whiskey tour in Scotland with my last boyfriend. We sampled a lot.” Clementine shrugged one shoulder. “Now, try the whiskey again. First, stick your nose in the glass and breath it in. Close your eyes and you may just start to notice the aromas, like spices and wood. And then just take a small sip, and roll it around your tongue. You will start to taste the other flavors, like the dark chocolate and the peat.”

It was interesting seeing the other side of his assistant, and Harry followed her instructions. The liquid smelled like strong alcohol, and tasted like strong alcohol. But by the time he was sipping his third glass, he was pretty sure there was a hint of sea salted oranges in there somewhere.

“So, you demanded I come to this room so you could get me drunk?” Harry didn’t mind so much, his earlier anger and frustration mellowed slightly now. 

Clementine shook her head. “No, to talk about this.” She grabbed a handful of papers from beside her, and dropped them on the coffee table. 

The firelight flickered over the hateful headlines, and Harry turned away in disgust. “What? Were you shocked to find out your boss is gay? Are you going to quit before the press starts making up stories involving you as well?”

The ginger rolled her eyes. “No, you nitwit. I’m your assistant. Let me assist you.”

Harry scoffed at that. “How? I’m making a mess of my life just fine of my own, no help required.” He chuckled at his own lame joke.

“Your problem has always been that you let the press control you, when you should control them.” She poked a finger at the top newspaper for emphasis.

“Oh, yes, like it’s so easy to control dozens of reporters who spy on everything I do, eager for any speck of a story to publish.” He finished his drink and reached for the bottle. 

Clementine moved the bottle out of reach. “You control what specks you give them, of course.” She gave a slow grin, looking fully confident in what she was saying. She flipped through the newspaper, and pulled one out. “First things first. Who is this?”

It was a grainy, slightly out of focus picture. The one that had started everything. “A friend.” 

Harry could only feel sad, looking down at the picture. It had been taken on the ferry, when Harry had kissed Draco in the car. Luckily, their positions showed Harry clearly enough that he was recognizable, but Draco wasn’t. The photographer also got a shot of Harry standing beside Draco at the railing, close enough to be obliviously together. More of Draco’s body was visible, making it clear he was a tall, slim man, but he was bundled up enough to again not be recognizable. 

His assistant nodded. “Is he someone you are still seeing?”

Harry shook his head quickly, and then regretted it as he felt a bit dizzy from the alcohol. He had tried to see Draco when the article had come out, wanting to apologize and see how they would handle it. Knowing he was being followed by reporters, he had floo’d out to Ron and Hermione’s place, and covered up with the invisibility cloak before asparating to the alley near Draco’s place. 

He had changed his appearance slightly, and buzzed Draco’s flat. When there was no response, he buzzed the manager, and was told the man in 3B had moved out with no forwarding address. “Are you a friend of his? Because some boxes were just delivered here and I have no idea where he is.”

The books. Harry heart sank, knowing Draco had truly gone if he was leaving books behind. He took them, storing them in an empty room of his large house. 

He had done the same thing with the brothel, seeing if Monique had any clue where Draco might have gone. She didn’t. 

The only other place he could be would be his mother’s, and if Draco had gone there, he wouldn’t want Harry to show up. 

“No. It’s completely over between us. He doesn’t want to be a part of all this. Any man would be crazy to want to be.” Harry glanced at the newspapers and then back to the fire. Would he be alone his whole life?

Clementine threw a bundle of letters on top of the newspapers. “Apparently not.”

Picking up the bundle, Harry eased the elastic band off and saw it was at least a dozen handwritten letters. He looked back at Clementine.

“They are letters from men. Gay men. Men who are interested in you and who are ecstatic that you are out.” Clementine took the letters back, and fanned them out over the table. 

Harry scoffed. “Attention seekers, crack pots and blackmailers. Just what I need in my life.”

She leaned forward. “Let’s face reality, Harry. You are famous, like it or not, and will likely always be. You say you want a normal life, so that is a little harder to get. And now you have been pushed rather hard out of the closet.”

Harry nodded at her summary. Spelled out like that, he could see how hopeless it all was. “Maybe I should just move away and live as a muggle.”

“And let those press assholes win? Not on my watch.” Clementine said, determination and pride making her hazel eyes flare. 

She reminded Harry a little of Molly, fiercely protective of her own children. Did that make Clementine his pseudo-mother? She was kind of ‘taking care’ of him, getting his charity and house in good shape. His slightly drunk brain found the idea of a younger woman being his mother quite amusing. “So, what do you suggest we do?”

“You are going to give them what they want. You are going to go out with man after man, give them tons of material for their papers until the public is damn sick of it. Harry Potter being gay will be old news in no time.” Clementine looked quite proud of the plan, taking a long sip of her whiskey.

The idea was awful. “Isn’t that just what they want? Lots of stuff on my private life?”

Clementine shook her head. “It won’t be your real private life. We will put on a show for a few months, of Harry Potter dating many different gay men. Doing all the things people normally do on dates.”

“Do I have to do interviews? Talk to press?” Harry hated that, always finding he was misquoted or they took his words out of context.

“No, just stick to ‘No Comment’ unless you are doing an interview you consent to do, like for your foundation.” Clementine said firmly. “You should avoid talking to the press always. If they approach you about an auror matter, tell them to talk to the official spokesperson. It’s not your job to talk to them.”

This sounded wonderful, and Harry gave a wide grin. “No Comment. No Comment. No comment.” He practiced the phrase, wanting it to become second nature to say it. “And where will I find all these men?” 

Clementine scooped up all the letters. “Leave that to me. I’ll screen them all, and make them sign a non-disclosure agreement before they can go out with you.”

Harry scoffed. “An agreement? You think that will really stop them from talking if they get offered a lot of money?”

Clementine grinned a bit wickedly. “I think I’ll casually remind them that you were powerful enough to stop Voldemort, and get them to consider what you may do to them if they cross you.”

“Oh great. Fear and intimidation. The best way to start any romance.” Harry drawled with a chuckle. “Are we done here?”

She nodded, getting up with all the letters and going into her office. She was already working on this plan. 

Harry grabbed the bottle of firewhiskey and his glass, carrying them upstairs and starting a hot bath. Filling the tumbler almost all the way, he sunk into the water, letting the heat seep into every bone in his body.

He lit a single candle on the side of the tub, watching the flame as it flickered a warm glow around the dark bathroom. He sipped the whiskey, just wanting his thoughts to be fuzzy for the night.

Where had Draco gone? Had he sold the cottage already? Did he have enough money to be away a long time? Would he ever come back? 

Would he see the newspapers or hear about Harry dating other men? Would he see that it was all a big show? Would he care either way? Was he done with Harry forever?

It hurt, the way he had just vanished, not even sending a letter by owl. Or leaving something with Monique. Or finding some other way. Yes, he understood that Draco was terrified of being identified as Harry’s boyfriend or lover or whatever. But they had discussed this, knew there would be obstacles and difficulties to being together, and they had agreed to work on them together. To vanish at the first sign of trouble made Harry question if Draco ever truly cared about him at all.

Harry rested his half full tumbler against his bent knee, admiring how the amber liquid glowed in the candlelight. Would there ever be anyone willing to put up with the press and Harry’s fame? Clementine was going to have him dating dozens of men probably, just to announce to the world he was here, queer, get used to it. But would it matter in the end if he was just going to end up alone?

...

-A/N: I warned you this would be a twisty-turny story right? ;)

-Whiskey: I took Clementine’s description from an article reviewing whiskies, mixing together the phrases used. I’m intrigued to try of some these now. Link [here.](http://whiskyadvocate.com/10-highest-scoring-peated-whiskies-fall-2018-buying-guide/)


	12. Chapter 12

**...Two Months Later...**

“I can’t believe that was his first feature film.” Harry commented as they exited the theatre. Leicester Square was busy with tourists and theatre goers, but his date easily led him through the crowds.

Brandon gave Harry a wide, enthused smile. “And he was only 26 when it came out!” He paused outside a pub. “Want to go in here for a drink? We can talk some more.”

Harry glanced at the pub. “Bear and Staff? Is this one of those bear bars I’ve heard about?” He smiled to show Brandon he was joking.

Luckily the man chuckled and went into the pub, finding them a quiet corner to sit so they could hear each other speak. “You really are new gay culture, aren’t you?”

“Guilty as charged. Educate me.” Harry ordered a pint of pale ale when the server came by.

Brandon ordered a pint too, along with nachos. “The slang started back when being gay was persecuted, a coded way to talk in public. You know what bears are, right?”

“Chubby guys with beards and body hair.” Harry replied, taking a sip of his ale. He was enjoying this date so far. Brandon was around his age, and easy to talk with. He wasn’t that good looking, a little tall and gangly, but Harry liked that he seemed smart and comfortable with himself. His hair was medium brown and on the longer side.

Brandon nodded. “And younger guys like that are called cubs. How about twinks?”

“Young, hardly any hair, more feminine.” Harry supplied, thinking back on one of his earlier dates. That guy had been fun and flirty, but not really Harry’s type. “So, what am I? Someone referred to me as a wolf once, but I wasn’t sure if that was meant as a compliment.”

Giving Harry an assessing glance with his dark eyes, Brandon shook his head. “Wolves have a medium build and some body hair, but are pretty sexually aggressive. Maybe you got called that because you are publicly dating so much.” 

The nachos arrived, and Brandon thanked the server reverently before digging in. “Have some, there’s lots.” 

Harry picked up a tortilla chip with a good amount of melted cheddar on it, and scooped up some salsa before taking a bite. The salsa had a little kick, but wasn’t too spicy. “So, not a wolf then.” He had been dating lots, but hadn’t had much sex.

“I’d say you were an otter. Body like a wolf but not such a player.” The tall man had already eaten three chips as Harry finished his first. Obviously his thin frame came from a high metabolism. 

“What else is there?” Harry asked, enjoying learning more about this. Gay culture was so much different than straight culture. 

“Gym rats, pigs, chicken hawks... frankly it’s hard to keep up with all the slang. I just go to the Urban Dictionary website to figure things out.” Brandon wiped his fingers on a paper napkin before taking a big sip of his drink. 

Harry nodded. “What are you?”

“I’m a giraffe.” Brandon straightened up in his chair, blinking down at Harry serenely, before chuckling and relaxing back into his previous posture. 

Harry shook his head. “You are the first guy I’ve dated who knows more about muggles than I do.”

“Well, those gay labels are used by wizards too. But muggles use them a lot on hook-up apps.” Brandon pulled out his smart phone and showed Harry how a popular one worked.

Harry took the last chip that had cheese on it, and dipped it in the guacamole. “How do you know all this? Do you live or work in a muggle area?”

Brandon shook his head. “No, but I was raised by muggles like you were. My parents are totally OK with me being a wizard, and I often spend time at their place. I keep up with that world to be able to relate with them and my old muggle friends.”

“Do your muggle friends know you can do magic?” Harry asked, wondering how you could keep the secret from people you were close to. 

“Nah. I’m pretty good at evading that. We just get involved talking about films or books, and pretty soon get debating about something.” Brandon shrugged. 

They went back to discussing the film they had just seen, Harry enjoying his deep knowledge about the topic. He was having a good time. 

It was quite late by the time they left the pub, and the square was almost empty. It made the reporter more obvious when he followed them, and Harry did his best to ignore him, even though it still irked him. After so many months, it was getting easier to ignore press.

They stopped in the underground station. Brandon was heading south to go home, Harry east. “Well, this has been fun. Thanks for taking me to the movies, Brandon.”

“They are showing ‘Rope’ in a couple weeks. One of Hitchcock’s more controversial films.” He took a step closer, his meaning clear.

Harry swallowed hard. Should he agree to go out again with Brandon? Did he like him that way? He wasn’t that sure. “Um, yes, we should go see that.” Might as well spend more time together to see how he felt.

Brandon looked pleased. He bent down a little, his goodnight kiss quick but confident. “I’ll owl you later. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight.” Harry had noticed a flash, and knew the reporter had taken a picture of that. Irritation flared inside him, and he almost pushed Brandon against a wall to give him a deep, dirty kiss. Just do something defiant. Instead, he just turned to go, catching the reporter turning away as well. The kiss would probably be in the paper tomorrow. 

Sighing, Harry tried not to let that bother him, or spoil his enjoyment of the night. Overall, it had been a success. He had seen a classic movie on the big screen, had an interesting conversation with an intelligent man, and ended up liking each other enough to plan for a second date. No big drama here. Just two people dating.

It had been over two months of this, Clementine’s Operation Gay Extravaganza. She had sent him on at least a couple of dates a week, and it had only been truly awful for the first couple of weeks. A pack of reporters following him everywhere, flashing cameras going off constantly. But when Harry kept dating other men and ignoring the press, their numbers fell and fewer papers carried stories about him. That Harry Potter was gay and dating was an old story by then.

There was still always at least one or two around, often freelancers hoping to catch Harry doing something scandalous. The first goodnight kiss had made the papers, but rarely did anymore. Most dates that had gone reasonably well seemed to end with one. A way to make it clear it was a date, not just two blokes hanging out. To see if there was any chemistry.

As Harry rode the subway back to his neighbourhood, he thought about all the guys he had dated. Clementine had fun with it, setting him up with a wide variety of men, and only giving him a quick overview of each one. They had ranged in ages from a few years younger to almost twenty years older than Harry. All sorts of body types, ethnicities and careers. Harry learned to just get to know the guys and have fun trying something different for the night. 

He had been all over London on dates, ranging from dark hole in the wall bars for live jazz, to the Royal Albert Hall for a full orchestra playing Beethoven. Been to many Quidditch matches, but also to watch muggle football and rugby. Plays, movies, comedy clubs. Eating casually in pubs like tonight to fine dining. It was great doing things outside his comfort zone, being open to new experiences.

Most dates ended up being guys he only saw once and didn’t get along with well enough to date again. A handful had ended up friends, guys he enjoyed spending time with but had no chemistry with. A couple had ended up being lovers.

That had come as a bit of a surprise, the first time he didn’t want a goodnight kiss to stop. Tristan had felt the same, slipping Harry a slip of paper with his address and the word ‘Midnight’ on it. They had made their official goodbyes and gone home, the press dropping off. 

Harry used his old tricks to get to Tristan’s unfollowed at the specified time. It had been exciting, having Tristan haul him inside his flat and kiss him so hard, pressing him against the door. Harry was just as eager, working the other man’s clothes off, and urging him into the bedroom. 

It was a fun night, but Harry hadn’t felt any urge to contact Tristan to repeat it. Tristan hadn’t either, and he hadn’t gone to the press to spill it all. Harry liked this side of gay sexuality, knowing that sometimes sex was just for sex. 

The next guy Harry felt attracted to was Edgar. He was ten years older than Harry, and travelled a lot for his work as an art dealer. He took Harry to a Moroccan restaurant and told him about the country as they ate with their hands. Harry used Tristan’s trick, slipping his address and the time to Edgar before the end of the night. 

Edgar had shown up, but they ended up in the study. They kissed, and it was good, but Edgar didn’t let things progress beyond that. They ended up talking until they were both yawning, and Edgar took the floo network back home. 

Harry had wanted to see Edgar again, but his busy schedule made it hard. They had only seen each other once more since then, but had agreed to a third date when he was back in the country.

By the time Harry was in bed, he was tired but not quite ready to sleep. He reflected back on his life the last few months, thinking how much things had changed. He was still just working regular hours as an auror, and found he was more often stepping back to let the younger aurors get a chance to shine. He hadn’t been to a charity gala for months, quite happy to be out of that spotlight. Clementine had his life running quite smoothly, and she had even helped him hire painters to brighten up Grimmauld Place. 

He was busier in his off-hours now, often seeing friends on the nights he didn’t have dates. They teased him constantly about his sex life, and he just gave them a mysterious shrug. 

Overall, things were much better than they were before. He was living the life of a man in his twenties. Even the newspapers didn’t write about him as much. 

But still, when he was alone in his quiet house, his thoughts went invariably back to Draco. Where had he gone all this time? What was he doing? Did he think about Harry anymore? Regret how things had ended?

He had been angry, sad and numb when Draco had first left. When Clementine had started her campaign, Harry gritted his teeth, putting on a pleasant face for his dates and the press. Those first weeks he focussed mostly trying to ignore the cameras being shoved in his face and trying not to punch somebody in anger. Eventually, the press eased off and he was actually glad to be going on the dates to keep himself from brooding over Draco at home.

Harry tried hard to forget the man. So what, they had been attracted to each other and it hadn’t worked out. Things like that happened all the time to people. 

...

“Harry, there was a funny letter in the post today. It’s marked confidential and addressed to a ‘James’...” Clementine walked into the kitchen holding an envelope, looking over it for a return address.

Almost dropping his knife on his foot, Harry lunged forward to snatch it out of her hands. “I’ll take care of that, thanks.” He shoved it into his pocket and tried to act normal as he went back to chopping onions.

She gave him a strange look, but seemed to dismiss it. “What are you cooking?”

“Just a quick stir fry. Ron is popping by to watch the game with me.” Harry started chopping up broccoli.

Clementine shook her head. “I still don’t understand why you do all this by hand. It’s so much quicker with a wand.”

“I like cooking. Now get out of here. I can’t have a proper boy’s night if you are still in the house.” Harry’s teasing tone made sure Clementine knew he was joking. 

As soon as she left, Harry dug the letter out and opened it, sinking down on to a chair. 

**Dear James,**  
**You still have nine sessions left on your package. We have hired new staff since Dante’s departure, and I would love to meet with you to discuss your options.**  
**Monique**

Harry sighed in disappointment, and shoved the letter back in his pocket. His first though was that Draco had sent him a letter through that channel. 

Amazing to think he had only three sessions with Draco. They had been so intense. Could he ever go back to that place?

Harry scoffed at himself. Was it somehow disloyal to go back? Why was he worrying what Draco might think about it, when he wasn’t around and gave Harry no sign that he ever would be?

Maybe it would be best to go. Have sessions with other men. Do all the things he had gone there for in the first place. He was out now but he was still not having much sex. He could even explore BDSM some more. Maybe it would help drive Draco from his thoughts. Give him some closure. 

He heard Ron arriving through the floo and went to see him. He was dressed casually in jeans and an orange hoodie for his favourite Quidditch team, looking like his teenage self in many ways. He had filled out though, with a man’s body now instead of a scrawny teen who had grown tall so fast. He was a good looking man, but Harry had never felt any pull of attraction towards him. 

“Come on, I’m just going to cook up our dinner.” Harry beaconed Ron into the kitchen, watching fondly as the ginger ambled over to the ice box to get them both a beer.

They took the meal into the study, and turned on the television. It still felt odd watching televised Quidditch, a rather new development. It was charmed so the game would only show on wizarding televisions.

At half time, Harry turned the volume down. “Remember your Christmas gift?”

Ron was still for a second, and then a huge smirk went across his face. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, remember that I told you that I went a few times? Months ago?” Harry wasn’t entirely sure why he was bringing this up.

“Yeah...” Ron could tell Harry was uncomfortable, and he dropped the grin.

Harry took a deep breath. “It was around the time I started seeing that old friend, you remember...the bloke...”

Ron nodded, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Well, I stopped going to that place when things got more serious with that guy, but then our picture got in the paper, and you know what happened then.” Harry said the last part fast, still having a hard time talking about it.

Ron shifted, crossing his legs. “Are you still feeling bad about that? I think there should be stricter laws about the press butting into people’s personal lives...”

Harry put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. Ron had been very angry on his behalf when the story had outed Harry. “No, I had a question about something else. Do you think it would be weird if I went back to that place? I never used up all the sessions in the package.”

Ron went back to smirking. “Do you really need to now? You are going out with guys all the time.”

“Just because I go out with them, doesn’t mean I’m having sex with them.” Harry was shocked that his best friend believed the trashy newspaper stories. 

Ron shrugged. “Isn’t that one of the perks of being gay? Getting to have more sex?”

Harry sighed, regretting even bringing the topic up. He faced back towards the TV, turning the volume back up. “Just fucking forget it.”

They sat in silence, watching the sports commentators dissecting the last goal in great detail. Harry was too irritated to take much in. 

Ron kept shooting him sideways glances, knowing he had screwed up. Finally he said softly, “It’s OK if you go back there, Harry. You don’t owe that bloke anything.”

It was the validation Harry was looking for, even though Ron didn’t know the whole story and couldn’t really judge it fairly. But it still felt good to get it. Harry shot him a glance, and nodded.

...

-A/N: Thanks for reading & being so patient with the twists & turns this story is taking.

-Brandon takes Harry to see _Citizen Kane_ at the Prince Charles Theatre on their date. 

-Citizen Kane: This 1941 movie is considered by many to be on the best films of all time. “It is particularly praised for its cinematography, music, editing and narrative structure, which have been considered innovative and precedent-setting.” (Wikipedia). The Rotten Tomatoes website's critical consensus states: "Orson Welles's epic tale of a publishing tycoon's rise and fall is entertaining, poignant, and inventive in its storytelling, earning its reputation as a landmark achievement in film."

The main character was partly based on the millionaire American newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. Hearst tried to quash the movie, threatening libel lawsuits and to publish editorials about Hollywood hiring practices that would smear many studios. Soon afterwards, other studios’ executives offered RKO Pictures $805,000 to destroy all prints of the film and burn the negative. An underage girl was even hidden in Orson Welles’ hotel room when he was on a lecture tour, with photographers planted nearby. The resulting publicity would have put Welles in jail, but he was tipped off about it and didn’t go back to the hotel that night. Upon its release, Hearst prohibited mention of the film in any of his newspapers. He also pressured movie theaters not to show the film. This likely contributed to the movie failing to even break even at the box office.

Despite all that, the film was nominated for nine Academy Awards including Best Picture, but only won for writing. It really started to get wider acclaim when it was shown in television in the mid-1950s. By 1958, poll of over 100 film historians named Citizen Kane one of the top ten greatest films ever made, and it has remained there for most critics.  
A 3.5 minute clip about how Citizen Kane has influenced cinema is [here.](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=5qLsPzQYJYA)

-Princes Charles Theatre: This is central London’s wild card cinema, running a fantastic blend of new-ish blockbusters, independent and arthouse titles with horror, sci-fi and teen-flick all-nighters, double bills and short seasons. It’s the type of place that runs all the ‘Harry Potter’ films back-to-back in one 22-hour sitting. Cheap, comfy, and with great programming, it is directors Paul Thomas Anderson and Quentin Tarantino’s favorite UK cinema.

-Rope: Hitchcock’s 1948 thriller notable for taking place in real time and being edited so as to appear as a single continuous shot through the use of long takes. It was controversial and banned in many theatres for appearing to have gay murderers as the main characters. Plot: “Two young men strangle their "inferior" classmate, hide his body in their apartment, and invite his friends and family to a dinner party as a means to challenge the "perfection" of their crime.” (IMDB). Opening scene is [here.](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=aJo5ih2HkxE)

-Gay slang: It has been around and evolved over hundreds of years. Being LGBTQ was against the law and widely discrimated against for most of history, and only in recent decades more mainstream in some countries. “Because of sodomy laws and threat of prosecution due to the criminalization of homosexuality, LGBT slang also serves as an argot, a secret language and a way for the LGBT community to communicate with each other publicly without revealing their sexual orientation to others.” (Wikipedia). Link is [here.](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/LGBT_slang)


	13. Chapter 13

A powerful blast had Harry banging back against the wall, his breath knocked out of him as he slid downwards. His legs splayed out in front of him, it seemed to take ages to get an idea what had just happened. His ears were ringing, his heart pounding, the adrenaline whooshing through his veins putting every sense on high alert.

A cloud of dust and debris made it hard to see. Harry coughed and sputtered, trying to clear the particles from his airways.

Beside him, his co-worker Augustina was getting back to her feet, her wand out. Ron and Muneer had been out of the range of the explosion, and ran after the suspect.

Gingerly, Harry got to his feet, and could feel that he wasn't seriously injured. He would be sore and bruised, likely a bit stiff for a few days. It would be like after his sessions with Draco, every move tinged with pain. At least these new injuries wouldn't bring up carnal memories.

Augustina was exploring the left side of the warehouse, so Harry pulled out his wand and moved to the right side. Empty crates were stacked, some fallen over from the blast and broken. Shards of glass crunched under his sturdy work boots. His eyes scanned over the industrial shelving, crammed full of bottles and ceramic pots.

Something caught his eye, and he had been in the job long enough to trust his instincts. Squatting down, he cast a _Lumos_ spell to see better. There was a large, slumping cardboard box tucked into a corner between two shelving units with long wooden planks leaning against the wall over it.

Reaching out, Harry lifted the flap of the box. It was on it's side, the top of the box facing him, and his light made it possible to see the dirty blankets inside. His heart sank when he saw a small, ragged shoe.

"Augustina...," Harry said softly to the other auror, and she quickly came to his side. They shared a glance, and then Harry lifted the corner of the blanket. A filthy child was lying inside, curled up in a tiny ball of angular limbs and rags.

Swearing under her breath, Augustina helped Harry tug the cardboard box out of the corner, spiders and insects scuttling away from being disturbed. The child didn't stir.

Harry lifted the child while Augustina moved the box away. His heart was pounding as he performed basic first aid, and felt relieved when he could see the tiny chest moving. "Alive, barely."

Augustina passed him the emergency portkey, and Harry stood with child in his arms. In a whoosh, he was at St. Mungos, lowering his bundle to a hospital bed.

"Unconscious child we found in a potions raid. There was an explosion but I don't think he was hurt by it." Harry said quickly to the mediwitch who rushed forward.

She nodded, pushing the bed to the nearest curtained area, Harry following close behind. He cringed as she straightened the child on the bed, dropping the dirty blanket to the floor. He collected it, pulling an evidence bag from his uniform and shoving the blanket inside. The ragged clothing she removed followed after it.

"I can't even tell if it's a girl or a boy," Harry murmured.

The mediwitch was a tall, asian woman with her long hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her emerald green robes were mostly obscured with a white coverall most of the trauma staff wore.

She flicked her dark eyes up to meet Harry's. "A girl, about six years old...," she looked down as she took the vital signs, her brow lowering in concentration.

Harry was surprised at the age. He would have said a year or two younger, the girl was so slight.

"She appears to have no injuries, but is just severely dehydrated and malnourished. Any idea about her identity?"

Shaking his head, Harry felt frustrated. "She could have been homeless, and tucked herself into the corner of the warehouse. Or maybe she is a daughter of our suspects. I will check in with my partner, see if they caught anyone we can question."

The mediwitch pulled out a basin and magically filled it with warm water. She began washing the child, her hands gentle. "I will call her _Kimiko_ for now. It means valuable child."

Harry was touched by the gesture and the tender way the mediwitch was taking care of the child. "I'm Harry."

"Tatsuo," The young woman supplied, her eyes flicking up to his forehead.

Harry hoped his hair was covering his scar, but with the blast it was probably sticking up everywhere and dirty as the rest of him. Her glance told him that she recognized his name, but she was professional enough to not make an issue about it.

"I had better go, Tatsuo. Can I come back later to check on Kimiko?" Harry picked up the evidence bag, and reduced it in size to tuck it into a pocket of his uniform.

The mediwitch nodded with a smile. "My shift ends at 9."

Harry left, apparating back to the warehouse. Had Tatsuo been flirting with him a little? He had a hard time reading people at times. She was attractive, but surely she had seen his name in the papers lately. Perhaps she thought he was bisexual?

...

The day was busy with processing the warehouse scene and questioning the captured suspect. Images of that little girl kept popping into his mind, and the lingering thought that she might not have been alive much longer if they hadn't found her. Where were her parents?

Even though he was exhausted, Harry knew he wouldn't be able to sleep until he saw her again. At the end of his shift he changed back into muggle clothes and splashed water in his face to tidy up a bit. His hair was still dusty and messy, and he didn't bother trying to fix it.

Taking the floo back to the hospital, he found the room Kimiko had been moved to. He stood in the doorway, not wanting to scare her. She was flipping through a picture book, her eyes enormous in her thin face. But at least she was awake and clean, tucked into the inclined hospital bed.

"She is doing much better," a soft voice at his left side said.

Harry turned and saw Tatsuo there, and gave her a small smile in acknowledgement. "That is a relief."

Tatsuo entered the room, beckoning Harry to follow. She pulled out her wand to check the girl's vital signs, and made notes on the medical chart. "Are you going to tell me your name? Or it still a secret?"

The little girl was looking up at Tatsuo's pretty face like an imprinted duck. She shook her head slowly.

Chuckling lightly, Tatsuo tapped her nose. "Then I will still call you Kimiko. You remember that I am Tatsuo, right?" She turned to show Harry beside her. "And this is Harry. He is the auror who brought you here."

The girl's intense gaze shifted to Harry, and he found it a little unsettling. Her large eyes were a stormy blue-green, framed with dark lashes. Her washed and combed hair was medium brown, but thin and with jagged ends. Faded bruises marred the pale skin on her face and arms.

Harry tried to give her a warm, unthreatening smile. "I think she looks more like a Brunhilda or a Willamina."

He was relieved to see the girl shake her head at the names, and swore there was a hint of a smile.

"Prunella or maybe Hester?" Tatsuo added, her warm eyes flicking towards Harry.

"Earnestina? Arnulfa?"

It was the last name that did it, making the girl give a soft giggle. "Seraphina." Her voice was hard to hear, and slightly scratchy.

Tatsuo beamed down at the girl. "Seraphina? What a pretty name."

Harry and Tatsuo tried to coax her last name out as well, but the girl just gave them a blank look. He was thinking she didn't know it.

"Well, Seraphinas are actually angels with six wings. Powerful, beautiful creatures." Tatsuo tucked the blanket back around the small girl.

She was already showing signs of tiredness from the interaction, and Tatsuo pulled Harry out of the room to let the girl rest.

Harry sighed when they were in the hallway. "At least I have a name now. I will search for relatives, somewhere safe she can go. How long do you think she will need to stay in the hospital?"

Tatsuo shrugged. "It is hard to say. Are you always this involved in your cases? Normally child protective services steps in."

Harry paused, the question hitting him. Why was he feeling so invested in Seraphina? Was it just from being the one who found her? Over the years, he had helped many kids in distress, and had always just left them to the hospital and the system to look after them.

"Not normally...," Harry finally said.

Tatsuo patted his arm. "It's easy in jobs like ours to harden ourselves, focussing on the task and almost needing to be a little detached to protect ourselves when we see such awful things. But once in a while, someone breaks through that."

Harry looked into her dark eyes and felt a real kindred spirit. She was smart and passionate about her job, but had a deep caring for people that made her ideal for working with children.

He nodded. "Will you let me know about any developments?"

After she agreed, he took the floo back to the office. He searched the records for Seraphina, but ended up going home exhausted a few hours later.

...

"I've checked birth records, missing persons reports, everything. No sign of that name anywhere," Harry ran a hand through his hair.

Ron passed him a cup of coffee, and leaned back against the kitchenette counter to sip his own. "She probably didn't go to school, so you can't even check there."

Adding some milk, Harry stirred his beverage. "I got a picture. Do you think we could ask about her during the interrogation?"

Shrugging, Ron led the way back to their desks to grab the file. "Might as well. It might even get him talking."

They headed down a floor, and went into the dingy interrogation room. The suspect was already there, an immobilizing spell keeping him in place. Ron and Harry sat down on the opposite side of the battered, wooden table.

Setting down the thick file, Ron nonchalantly flipped through it while sipping his coffee. His blue eyes flicked up to the man sitting across from him, scanning slowly over his unwashed dark hair, whisker stubble and stained, rumpled clothing. He was a man in his forties, but looked older from having a rough life.

Ron glanced back down at the page in front of him. "Can you tell us what you were doing in that warehouse, Theo?"

The man tried to open his mouth to speak, but the spell had locked his jaw as well as everything else. Ron's eyes went to Harry, and without pulling out his wand, he whispered the counter-spell.

Theo's eyes widened as he slumped into the chair, rolling his shoulders. His gaze moved over Harry's glasses and up to his forehead.

Harry stared at him calmly. He and Ron had used his reputation since they had become partners, always having Harry in the 'bad cop' role. Wandless magic wasn't that common, a subtle sign of his power. A reminder of who he was and what he had done.

"Well, are you going to answer the question?" Ron leaned forward, glaring at the suspect.

Theo jumped a little, his gaze skittering back to the ginger, and he swallowed nervously. "Um, just working on a stronger version of Pepper-up potion. I don't know why it exploded like that."

Arching an eyebrow, Ron flipped a few more pages and read over a sheet. "This is an inventory of the potion ingredients we found there. I see lots of bicorn horn powder, fluxweed, and boomslang skin. None of those go into Pepper-up."

Shifting in his seat, Theo seemed to be searching for an explanation. "That's part of my new formulation. Nothing illegal about healing potions."

Pushing a hand into the deep pocket of his robe, Ron pulled out a glass vial with a thick green sludge inside it. "We found a couple cases of your completed potion."

Harry almost laughed out loud at the way Theo opened his mouth to explain, but then quickly closed it. There was a slight tremor to his hands now, fidgeting and pushing his hair off his face. Harry could see nervous sweat beading on his forehead.

Ron looked down at his red auror robe, and carefully picked a short white hair off it. He opened the vial, put the hair in, and shook it. The potion changed to a sickly orange-grey color.

"You know, you aren't looking too great, Theo. I think you should drink this," he set the vial in front of the sweating man. "Although I should warn you that I added a cat hair to it. That can sometimes make potions react strangely, right, Harry?"

Harry smirked. "Oh yeah. A friend of ours accidentally put a cat hair in Polyjuice potion. It took weeks in the hospital for her to go back to normal."

Theo stared at the potion in front of him, and then shook his head. "I won't take it."

Chuckling, Ron got up and sat on the edge of the table to loom over the suspect. "No? Shall we immobilize you again and pour it down your throat? You really look unwell."

There was a bit of a staring contest then, Ron's last statement hanging in the air. Theo seemed to crumple after a few minutes, lowering his head down to his folded arms on the table. "No, no...I'll talk."

Ron's expression was one of pure satisfaction, and he moved back to his chair and finished off his coffee. "Fine. Tell us everything."

Theo started babbling, his eyes flicking between Ron and Harry, and resting on the vial as he searched for more information. The aurors gave him impassive expressions, jotting down an occasional note.

By the time he wound down, they had a good idea of the size of the Polyjuice ring. Theo's clients were all sorts of criminals who needed short term disguising as other people. The information would be valuable to capture many others. He also had connections to potion ingredient smugglers.

Harry had been listening closely, but what he really wanted to know hadn't been brought up. "And was the little girl we found in the warehouse your daughter?"

Theo gave him a confused expression. "Oh, her. I rarely even saw her," he shook his head. "She was some kid my partner got saddled with from an ex-girlfriend."

"Where is your partner?" Ron probed.

"Dead, a deal gone bad three years ago. I didn't even know his old girlfriend's name to give the kid back," Theo shrugged. "But by then, she basically took care of herself."

White hot rage surged through Harry at the potion maker's offhand manner, and before he knew it, he had the scrawny man pinned up against the wall, his wand against his neck. "You left a six year old to take care of herself? You let her sleep in a box of filthy blankets like a dog?"

Harry glared down at Theo's dark, fearful eyes, wanting to thump him against the wall repeatedly. Shove him into a small cage and push him into a cold corner of that fucking warehouse for a few months or years.

What had it been like for Seraphina? Passed like an unwanted package between her parents and ending up treated worse than a stray? She must have been on survival mode, sneaking out of her box when Theo left for the day, hoping for scraps of food and water. Did anyone talk to her, take care of her?

Strong hands gasped his shoulders, pulling him away from the suspect. He resisted at first, but then he could hear Ron's voice speaking in calming tones. "Harry, Harry...back off..."

Harry took a step back, lowering his wand, breathing fast and his heart pounding so hard it made it difficult to focus on anything else. He slumped down on to a chair, rubbing his hands over his face. He was vaguely aware of people talking and moving around.

By the time his breath had calmed and he lowered his hands to look around, it was only Ron in the room.

He passed Harry a glass. "Have some water."

Realizing how thirsty he felt, Harry wrapped his hands around the cup, and he closed his eyes as he took a comforting sip. His hands shook as he set the glass back down. "What just happened?"

Ron gave a nervous chuckle. "Um, well, I was hoping you could tell me that, mate. It was a routine interrogation, everything going well, and then suddenly you attacked. Had poor Theo against the wall and practically pissing himself."

Harry's head felt fuzzy, adrenaline and his turbulent feelings making it hard to think straight. "I don't even know. I just remember you pulling me off him. A good thing too...I really wanted to hurt that man."

It took a lot to shock Ron. He had known Harry since they were 11, and been an auror for years. But he looked worried and troubled, getting up to put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I think we should go talk to Dankeworth. Better just tell her what happened than wait for that slimeball to start spreading lies about you and auror brutality."

...

Harry entered the elegantly decorated room, and sat down on a leather armchair. There was a matching chair a couple feet from his, and a small table between them. A small fire crackled before him, and he tried to relax. This felt like someone's living room instead of a sterile medical office.

A couple minutes later, a man in a navy muggle suit entered, carrying a file, and he settled on to the other chair. "Hello Harry, I'm Dr. Mendosa."

He was likely in his mid-forties, with salt and pepper hair and a few wrinkles near his warm, dark brown eyes. Harry was pretty good at reading people after so many years as an auror, and felt immediately comfortable with this man. They shook hands and settled into the chairs, the doctor flipping through the file.

"So, I see you are here at the request of your supervisor. Can you tell me what happened?" His tone was calm, neutral.

It had been a week since 'the incident', and Harry had been rattling around his house, on 'medical leave' from work until a therapist cleared him to return. It was mortifying.

Harry sighed. "I've gone over and over it in my mind, and I still don't really know. One minute it was just a routine interrogation, the next I had my wand at the suspect's throat. I'm just glad my partner was there to deescalate everything." He shuddered at the thought of carrying through with the dark urges that had gone through his mind then. It could have been much, much worse.

"Just tell me what you remember and we will see if we can figure it out."

Knowing he had to be compliant to have any hope of returning to his job again, Harry started giving the backstory of the warehouse bust and the talk with Theo. The older man let him talk without interruption, making some notes, acting much like Harry did in interrogations. Getting a measure of his subject, looking for gaps in the story.

"You mentioned you typically had your partner ask the questions during interrogations. What questions did you ask?"

Harry thought for a minute, searching his memory. The whole situation seemed somewhat hazy, blurred by emotions. He shrugged a little. "Um, I asked about who the girl was, and he flippantly said it was the daughter of his partner who had died years earlier."

The therapist was watching him closely. "That bothered you?"

Scoffing, Harry gave the older man a disbelieving look. "The healing witch estimated her age at around six, and Theo said his partner died three years ago. I'm sure the partner wasn't the perfect parent, but he probably took care of her somewhat."

"And Theo wasn't taking care of her?"

Vivid images of pulling back that dirty blanket and the feeling of pure horror when he realized it was a little child came rushing back. Harry felt like he had been punched in the gut, having a hard time catching his breath, his heart pounding. More images seemed to flood his thoughts, of Tatsuo gently washing her, those emaciated limbs, the bruises on her skin...

"Breathe, Harry, breathe...it's OK...," a calm voice instructed firmly, a warm hand steady on his shoulder, anchoring him.

Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Harry tried to follow the instructions, breathing in through his nose, and blowing the air out of his mouth. Feeling his heart rate slow down, and the crippling tightness in his chest easing. His breathing went back to normal eventually, and Harry realized he was damp with sweat like he had run a few blocks. His body felt exhausted as well.

Dr. Mendoza sat down, passing a mug to Harry. "It's sweet tea. Sip it slowly."

Although it wasn't how he normally took his tea, Harry drank the hot beverage, thankful for it's soothing warmth. He hadn't realized he was thirsty, but the mug was empty surprisingly fast. "What just happened?"

The doctor gave him a considering look. "I think the situation with that girl is triggering things from your past. You are having a 'fight or flight' reaction to it, that is why you were breathing faster and breaking out in a sweat. It's from adrenaline. It's normal to feel shaky and tired afterwards."

Harry shook his head slowly. "Why now? Why this case? I've seen worse things during my auror years."

"That is something we will have to figure out together." The doctor gave him a confident smile. Somehow it helped that the doctor didn't seemed fazed by this.

...

They had sessions two times a week, working at getting Harry back to work soon. Time seemed to drag for Harry, who had pulled back from dating and other socializing for now. He had gotten tired of seeing Ron and Hermione asking him how he was doing with concerned expressions.

He spent a lot of time at the hospital with Seraphina. Tatsuo had introduced him to the other staff, even though it was probably unnecessary, and they had welcomed him.

When Seraphina was resting, he visited with other children, reading them stories and drawing pictures. They simply knew him as Harry, taking him at face value, without any knowledge of his past. It was refreshing.

"Sera! That is a wonderful picture!" Tatsuo beamed down at the little girl, looking down at the hippogriff she had drawn.

The girl grinned, her eyes seeming more blue than green today. Harry was pleased to see she was less gaunt now, and had some color in her cheeks. Every day she seemed to have more strength and energy, and seemed to soak up the stories Harry read to her.

She didn't speak much, but her expressive face made up for it. The social worker had said this was normal for someone who had been through so much.

Tatsuo put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Can I speak with you privately for a minute?"

Nodding, Harry got up and left Sera to her coloring, looking content.

"There is a meeting about Sera in a half hour, and I think you should come." Tatsuo said to Harry softly, when they were out of earshot.

"A meeting? What about?"

Tatsuo glanced back at Sera. "Her future. It's with all the health professionals who have been working with her. It will be time for her to leave the hospital soon."

Harry felt a tightening in his chest, and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Of course, it made sense that she wouldn't be staying at the hospital forever. "Um, yes. I'd like to come."

Tatsuo seemed pleased, and told him the meeting location before rushing back to her duties.

Sitting down beside Sera again, Harry went back to coloring. She was good company, smiling at him and humming quietly to herself.

It was hard to concentrate, with all the possible situations Sera could end up in running through his mind. Stuck in a dirty, crowded orphanage, being ignored by the adults and bullied by the other kids. Stuck in a foster home with abusive adults. Situations so awful that she ran away to hide herself again in a box. A homeless waif again. She was so small and defenseless.

By the time Tatsuo appeared again, beckoning Harry to join her, Harry felt a bit anxious.

The conference room had a large table with a dozen chairs around it. About half were full. "Social worker, nutritionist, home care, child welfare, curse breaker, education ministry rep...," Tatsuo whispered to Harry quietly once they had sat down, listing off the various positions of the staff.

The meeting started, and Tatsuo simply introduced Harry as the auror who had found Seraphina. Three people seemed to recognize him, their eyes flicking up to his forehead in a way he was far too familiar with.

"She cannot attend school until her speaking skills catch up," the education rep was saying, glancing around the group for agreement on her point.

The social worker nodded. "Her social skills need time to develop as well. If we rush it, she will just withdraw again."

Child welfare flipped through a file folder. "I don't have openings at any foster homes that can give her that type of support."

"Isn't there a rehab hospital that could take her?" Tatsuo shot out, seeming a bit frustrated.

Child welfare sighed. "There are only day programs with capacity. She would still need a home placement."

Harry listened to the rapid fire discussion, as the professionals tried to find the best possible fit for the girl. He could feel his internal tension mounting, his chest feeling tighter, as it seemed to go on and on, with no solution coming up.

"Can she stay with me? I have a big house." Harry blurted suddenly, surprising even himself.

Six sets of eyes swiveled back to him, and he could tell that in the intense discussion, they had forgotten he was even there. After looking at him for a moment, a few shared looks with each other, and no one seemed excited by his suggestion.

Finally, the social worker gave him a level look with her dark blue eyes. "Harry Potter, that is a generous offer, but it takes more than some extra bedrooms to take care of a high risk child."

"I'm not claiming it is the perfect solution, but surely for now it might fit the bill. I'm off work currently for a bit, so I could take her to that rehab program every day." Harry pushed on, just feeling the need to help Sera somehow.

Child welfare shook his head. "What happens when you go back to work? She would have grown attached to you by then and it would hard on both of you to move her."

"Then I’ll adopt her, and arrange for competent child care like any working parent," Harry argued back, speaking so fast he hardly knew what he was saying.

This got a look of disbelief from the child welfare worker. "Perhaps being Harry Potter, you are used to getting whatever you want with a snap of your fingers, but we don't take adoption so lightly. You would have to apply and be approved. And I have never heard of a single, homosexual auror being approved."

The man's prejudice was clearly showing, and it felt like about half the table was nodding in agreement, while the other half seemed outraged. Since being outed a few months ago, Harry had rarely faced such direct homophobia.

Shoving back his chair, Harry stood up. He nodded to Tatsuo and left the room. Clearly his presence was not needed.

...

Ron smiled when the server came by with a second round, taking his beer and pushing the firewhiskey across the table to Harry. "I still can't believe you offered to adopt the girl."

Taking a sip, Harry savored the burn of the alcohol as he swallowed, and the smoky spice flavors that lingered. "I can't believe it either. I just got caught up in wanting to help her."

"It's not that I don't think you would be an amazing father, but..." Ron started, but seemed to be fumbling for words.

Harry was a bit hurt. "You don't think gay men should adopt?" It wasn't that uncommon a belief, even among straight people who generally accepted homosexuality.

"No! No...that isn't a part of it at all." Ron ran a hand through his hair. "It's more about you being single and an auror. Raising a kid is hard work, even for two people, and add in your crazy schedule...plus the danger..."

Harry sighed. Ron had a point. "Yeah, yeah."

"Maybe in five years or so, you'll be all settled down with a husband and a safe desk job, and you can consider adoption again," Ron grinned, and then tilted his head a little to give Harry a considering look. "Do you think you'd take your husband's name, or would you take his? Or do a hyphenated double name?"

His friend's teasing is just what he needed. It was good, knowing he could share anything with Ron, talk it out, and get an honest opinion in response.

As Ron continued to bug Harry about his future husband, the image of Draco holding Sera hit Harry. She was in yellow pajamas, and he was hugging her tight, before laying her down on a small child-sized bed. Kissing her cheek and tucking her in.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

"Sheesh, Harry! Come back from whatever fantasyland you just went to..." Ron cajoled, dipping a finger in his beer and flicking the liquid at Harry.

That pulled Harry back. He took a long sip of firewhiskey, pushing those disturbing thoughts away. "I would definitely take his name. As much as I love and respect my parents, it would be nice to start fresh with a new name."

"Even if it something like Hopkins? Harry Hopkins..." Ron tried out the name, "or Harry Bones?"

"Harry Longbottom?" Harry smirked, wracking his mind for funny names. "Harry Fudge."

"That sounds disgusting! Harry Hooch." Ron stuck his tongue out, still chuckling.

"Oh, that just sounds rude! Um, Harry Crabbe." Harry gasped for air, laughing so hard his ribs ached.

Ron burst out laughing, and then wheezed, "Harry Malfoy."

They had been slinging names back and forth fast, trying to one up each other to find the most ridiculous sounding combinations. But that name combination stopped Harry's laughter instantly.

"Um, yeah..." Harry tried to act normal, forcing out a chuckle. "That would probably be the most ridiculous one. I'd be trading my name for another with just as much baggage from the past."

Ron didn't seem to notice, waving down the server for another round.

They got back to discussing the case, Ron updating Harry on the leads that had resulted in bringing four other shady associates of Theo's potions ring. Harry tried to concentrate, but that name kept ringing in his head."

_Harry Malfoy. Harry Malfoy. Harry Malfoy._

Sighing to himself, Harry pushed the thoughts aside to listen better to Ron.

...

-A/N: More twists & turns. This fic will likely be 20 chapters long. Thanks for reading! 


	14. Chapter 14

Harry entered the room, slamming the door behind him, and throwing himself down on to the chair. 

Dr. Mendoza arched an eyebrow at this display, looking like he was holding back a chuckle. “You appear to have something on your mind, Harry.”

Hands clenching on the armrests of his chair, Harry let out a frustrated huff. “I’m trying so hard to improve my life, following everyone’s suggestions, but instead I’m falling apart. I don’t even know myself anymore.”

“Falling apart? In what way?” the therapist asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. “It feels like I have no control over my actions, my emotions. It can be a normal day, and then-“ He waved his hands around. “I attack a suspect and end up here. I find myself suddenly offering to adopt a child. And then feeling furious when they refuse the offer. Having crazy thoughts about-“ Harry shut his mouth so fast he nearly bit his own tongue. In his ranting, he had almost mentioned Draco.

“Crazy thoughts about what?”

 _Damn._ Of course his therapist would catch that. After all these weeks, he knew when Harry was holding back. He shrugged. “Just about a man I dated a while ago.”

Dr. Mendoza nodded, looking at his young client. “We have talked about your past and those changes you have made lately. They are big steps towards living a fuller, happier life.”

“But...” Harry sighed, knowing there was more coming.

“But humans don’t adapt to change with a snap of the fingers. It’s easy to have everything looking great on the surface, but the change takes a while to sink down deep into the core of who you are. And sometimes, your old ways, your old beliefs, will fight against the change.”

Harry tried to take this in, and understand it. “I’m an adult. I should be able to control myself. I should be able to look at things with a rational mind and define who I am.”

“Yes and no. I agree you can do that, but it will take time and a lot of work. It is what we are trying to do here.” The doctor took a minute, collecting his thoughts. “But you can’t deny that you are shaped a lot by how you are raised, and your experiences.”

“You are saying I attacked a suspect because my parents died when I was a baby?” Harry scoffed. “That I can’t get over a guy because I had to wear my cousin’s old clothes?”

“Yes.”

The simple answer had Harry staring at his therapist in shock. He had made up the most ridiculous scenarios he could come up with in that moment. 

“Let me explain the patterns I have seen from our sessions. Your loving, wonderful parents were murdered when you were just a baby. You were taken in by your aunt and uncle, but instead of loving and taking care of you, they treat you like a burden, like an embarrassing freak. Then you are off to Hogwarts, suddenly rich and famous, but still lacking parental figures. You had good friends and a pseudo-family in the Weasley’s but still looked for a father figure.” 

Harry could only nod along, knowing by now that his therapist was leading up to something.

“You turn to Sirius, but all too soon he was killed. Dumbledore as well. And even Snape.”

“A lot of people died in the war.” Harry shrugged. “Other people had it just as bad as I did.”

Dr. Mendoza leaned forward. “Yes, but the repeated loss of important people in your life is something you couldn’t help but react to. Everytime someone good came into your life, took an interest in you, they were soon gone.”

“OK, maybe that is true to some extent...” Harry didn’t see how that related to his current issues. 

“People who have experiences like that at a young age typically react in one of two ways; either they withdraw and don’t bother trying to be close to anyone again...”

“Or...?” Harry knew that wasn’t him, and he dreaded hearing the other option.

“Or they try a little too hard to hold on to people. Try to please them, do whatever they want, don’t set up appropriate boundaries...” Dr. Mendoza said, watching Harry closely, his dark eyes kind.

Harry sighed, considering if that description fit him. “A sloppy party bottom...,” he said softly, almost to himself.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing...” Harry waved a dismissive hand. “Do you really think I’m like that?”

“Well, let’s look at your relationship with Dumbledore. At times he was kind and fatherly towards you, but think of all the times you wanted to go to him for guidance, and he just wasn’t available. You did anything he asked, trying to win his approval, his love, even if it was dangerous.”

The words stung, but Harry didn’t reply right away. He thought it over, and it was true. “What should I have done? I was The Chosen One.”

Dr. Mendosa nodded slowly, taking a moment to mull this over. “Yes, but at great personal cost. No one is denying that you were the one who had to fight Voldemort in the end, and you even died to defeat him. This is not something most people have to face.”

Harry sighed. “Um, what you said does ring true though. As a teenager, I often wanted to talk things over with a father figure but they weren’t available to me. Dumbledore was often busy or seemed to ignore me. I often couldn’t contact Sirius because he was in hiding.”

“And Snape?”

Images of the occulumency training and potions classes flashed through Harry’s mind. And then seeing his memories in the pensive, Dumbledore’s death, Snape’s death...

Dr. Mendosa was holding out the box of tissues. Harry only realized then that tears were flowing down his cheeks. Embarrassed, he yanked out sone tissues and mopped up his face, trying to get himself together. It took a few minutes, but the therapist didn’t rush him. 

Finally, Harry turned back to him, swallowing thickly. “I didn’t have an easy relationship with him. With any of those men. I often felt I wasn’t measuring up to what they wanted.”

“Well, with everything you went through in your childhood and the war, I think you have done surprisingly well. You have a career you are good at and enjoy, and many healthy friendships.”

Harry scoffed. “Not a total fuck-up, then?”

“Not at all,” Dr. Mendosa rushed to answer. “The things that have been happening lately are because the changes you are trying to make are in conflict with some unhealthy beliefs you have internalized. That’s what we need to work on.”

Harry tried to put it together in his head, but didn’t see how it was connected. “You mentioned I try too hard to hold on to people...” Did he do things that other people didn’t? 

“Those things you initially mentioned, going too far with the suspect, the little girl, the guy in your past. Feeling out of control. That all stems from your past experiences.”

Harry ran his hands through his hair, feeling frustrated and confused. “I don’t get how they can be related in any way.”

The doctor leaned forward, his eyes warm and caring. “Finding that girl in the warehouse triggered you about your childhood. Sera is an orphan, like you, and also has been treated like a burden instead of with love. You saw that she was sleeping in a box and barely had enough to eat, and at a deep level, you are reminded of that cupboard under the stairs and barely getting food and clothing from your aunt and uncle.”

“I never had it as bad as she did. I went to school, had clean clothes...” Harry countered weakly. But it had been small, consistent mistreatments every day. Watching Dudley getting everything, while Harry barely got leftover scraps. 

“Your anger for how Sera was treated stems from buried anger about how you were treated. Subconsciously, you see yourself in her, and have been fighting for her like you wished you could have fought back for yourself, back then. Or had someone fight for you.”

Even now, thinking about how he had found her, in that old box in dirty clothes, insects scuttling away when he pulled her out of it, made the anger inside him flare up again. “Is it somehow wrong to fight for her? She needs someone in her corner. I can’t just leave her to the system and walk away.”

Dr. Mendosa nodded. “Wanting to protect and help her are good feelings. But spontaneously offering to adopt her is probably not the best way to go about that. Would you agree?”

Harry thought about his conversation with Ron. Being a single patent to a high needs child while working in a dangerous job was a recipe for disaster. He would be completely out of his depth, and probably make things even worse for Sera. Sure, he could give her food, shelter, clothing, and love. Meet her basic needs. But could he give her enough time and attention to help her become a healthy adult? 

“Yes, but I have to do something,” Harry finally said, feeling powerless. 

“We will work on that. Figure out ways you can help that are the best for both of you.” Dr. Mendosa said. “But I want to go back to the man you mentioned. You said you can’t get over him?”

With everything they had discussed in their sessions, Harry had rarely mentioned Draco. He had downplayed their past, and hadn’t mentioned going to the brothel. Hadn’t mentioned the trip to the island. It all seemed so long ago now. 

Taking a big, deep breath and letting it out slowly, Harry thought about how to sum things up. It was time to talk about it all, no matter how uncomfortable or embarrassing. If he couldn’t talk freely to his therapist, who could he talk to? Even Ron didn’t know everything.

 _Fuck it._ He just had to jump in and get Dr. Mendosa to help him sort it all out.

“His name is Draco, and it was hate at first sight...”

...

-A/N: Thanks for reading and being to patient with this twisty story. 


	15. Chapter 15

"His name is Draco, and it was hate at first sight..."

It took a long time for Harry to summarize everything to his therapist. From the first few sharp comments they exchanged, to the rivalry in class and on the quidditch pitch, to the escalating violence of the war. Testifying in his defense afterwards. Years of not seeing each other. Then the shock of seeing him in the brothel.

Dr. Mendosa was listening, letting Harry get his thoughts out. "What happened between you after that?"

Harry let out a half-chuckle out of nerves. "Um, well, we were both shocked but there was something between us. He gave me the option of going to another man, but I wanted to stay with him. He's really the one who pushed me to make so many changes."

"How did he do that?"

This conversation was getting more uncomfortable, but Harry pushed on. "Um, well, he mocked some of the charity work I had been involved in, and whipped me so I was sore for a week."

That made the doctor look up from his notepad, his eyes questioning. "He mocked and whipped you?"

"Well, mocking me was typical behavior for him. He's always done that," Harry said quickly, and then paused. "Um, he whipped me because he was working as a dom. At the brothel."

The doctor seemed to take a minute. "So, you normally engage in this type of sexual activity?" He didn't seem judgmental.

"Um, well, no. Never before. Not since then either."

The doctor's eyebrows rose slightly, one of the few reactions Harry had ever gotten from him. He usually schooled his expressions to be neutral.

It made Harry shift in his chair, feeling uneasy. "Is that unusual?"

"You have told me about your previous relationships, and only dabbling with men in recent years. It seems like a big step to go right into being whipped if you were inexperienced." Dr. Mendosa said.

Harry fell silent for a couple minutes. "Well, I guess I just wanted to be with him enough that I let him decide what we would do. But I did have a safe word."

"That you didn't use, apparently, since you were so sore afterwards."

That comment stopped Harry, made him pause. What would have happened if he said the safe word? "I'm not sure why I didn't say it. Maybe I was just so caught up in the moment, in subspace, that it didn't occur to me. Maybe I just have a high pain tolerance." Maybe he just wanted to follow Draco's orders, be a good sub.

The doctor didn't seem swayed by these explanations, but continued on. "Did you keep coming back? Did you let him whip you again?"

"I feel a bit ashamed to say that I did. I felt intensely attracted to him, even though he said he didn't have sex with clients."

"How many times did you go back?"

Harry swallowed hard. He hadn't allowed himself to think about Draco this much in ages. "Um, three sessions only, even though the gift was for twelve."

"What happened?"

Closing his eyes, Harry thought back on that last session. He had been so far from himself, almost manic. Out of control. It had been exciting, consuming, but also terrifying. It had almost ruined everything with Draco.

Sighing, Harry opened his eyes. "I had become a bit obsessed with him by then, and I pushed beyond the rules he had laid down. He left immediately, and it took weeks to get him to talk to me again."

The doctor nodded, making a note on his notepad. "So, you went back to the brothel."

"No, I said that I liked him and kissed him. He kissed me back, and I was able to convince him to try dating. He had big reservations about it." Harry remembered how exciting it had been, those early days...

"How long were you together?"

Harry shook his head, trying to keep it together. "Um, not long enough. He was concerned about be seen together in public since I'm in the news so often, and I wasn't out back then. We had been away for a short trip, and that stupid kiss picture got taken. I haven't seen or heard from him since."

"So, it's been several months and you have been dating other men very publicly. But you said you keep having crazy thoughts about him?"

It had been something that slipped out right at the beginning of the session. "Why am I still so hung up on him? He left without saying goodbye, I have no idea where he is or what he's doing. Who he's doing. If he'll ever come back." Harry grabbed a tissue, rubbing it over his eyes and then blowing his nose. "I date all these great guys, but none of them make me feel even a tenth of what I felt towards him."

The doctor gave him a few minutes to collect himself. Harry went to the washroom, feeling drained and incredibly depressed. He splashed his face with water, looking in the mirror when he dried off. His eyes were still red, his skin blotchy.

He slumped back down in the chair, and just wanted to curl up under his covers in bed, like he had when Draco had left. Shut out the world. It was too painful to deal with.

Dr. Mendosa sighed, and leaned forward. "Harry, you have been incredibly brave today, being so open with me. I know it's hard to talk about embarrassing issues, events that hurt you. But together we will figure this all out. Give you better ways to handle things in the future. Break you out of your patterns."

"I have patterns?" Harry couldn't see that at all.

"Before, I mentioned that you try a little too hard to hold on to people. This stems from the repeated abandonment you experienced growing up. Parental figures simply weren't physically or emotionally there for you. It can lead to maladaptive thoughts and behaviors to deal with this perceived rejection," Dr. Mendosa explained. "Future interpersonal relationships are effected by your personal history, and you try to avoid similar pain by relationship dependence."

"Relationship dependence." Harry repeated, not really understanding what the therapist meant.

"It means you will do almost anything to try to keep the relationship going, to earn their love." The doctor's eyes were caring, checking to make sure Harry was understanding what he was saying.

It sounded awful. "Am I really like that? Clingy and desperate?"

"I wouldn't call it that, exactly, but think back on how you acted recently with Draco. You felt strong attraction to him and basically did anything you could to be with him. You said you were obsessed with him, and still want him."

Harry frowned. "Don't other people feel like that sometimes too?"

"Yes, but they still have boundaries. Look at Draco. He told you what he wanted, and when things went outside that, he didn't stick around."

This made Harry look at that time differently. Draco had given his rules the first day at the brothel, and had left immediately when Harry broke those rules. Even later on, he had talked about his concerns about the press, and disappeared when the photos came out.

"So, even though he had feelings for me, it was OK for him to leave like that?" Harry asked. Was that normal in relationships?

The doctor shifted in his chair. "The point I was trying to make is that even when you have feelings for someone, you need to have boundaries and tell them what they are. You need to talk about what you want, and what you don't want, and the other person should respect that."

Harry looked towards the fire. "Oh, OK." He said it to be polite, not really understanding what his therapist meant.

"Harry, this is really important for you to learn. Like the way Draco treated you at the brothel. He right away tied you up and whipped you hard, knowing that you were new to all that." Dr. Mendosa said.

Springing up from the chair, Harry had to walk around. He couldn't sit still. "That was wrong?"

The doctor shook his head. "It is fine if it is consensual, but he should have discussed it with you first. Described what he was going to do and see if you were alright with that. Many people have things they don't like or can actually be triggering for bad reactions. And whipping seems like a fairly advanced place to start."

"But how was I supposed to know that? I was new to BDSM," Harry whirled around to face the man.

Dr. Mendosa was still calm, even watching Harry pace the room. "Now that you know that you have these challenges, you are going to need to check in with other people more. Talk to me and friends you trust, experts, to learn what is normal. Learn to set healthy boundaries. With trying BDSM, you could read books about it, and talk to other people in the community. Educate yourself."

Harry sat back down. "But I loved every minute with Draco. I wouldn't change a thing." He felt emotionally exhausted.

Leaning forward slightly, Dr. Mendosa caught Harry's eyes with his own. "People with abandonment issues often feel attracted to people who aren't the best choice for them. They can become attached too quickly, to unavailable people, and stay in toxic relationships."

Toxic relationships? Harry sat back in his chair. "You don't think Draco was good for me?"

"Perhaps. I think you both had issues you were dealing with from your past and that's not a healthy foundation to start a relationship on. How much of your attraction was fueled by your old rivalry? I think the relationship wouldn't have lasted very long if Draco hadn't cut and run. The reason you still feel hung up on him is simply needing some closure, since things ended so abruptly."

Harry felt like he had been punched in the gut. Could this be true? Was everything with Draco so nebulous and unsubstantial? Was he a fool for pining for him for all these months? Would he ever be able to let him go? Get free?

...

-A/N: A different viewpoint on things...


	16. Chapter 16

Clementine gave a low whistle as she walked into the kitchen. "Wow! This looks amazing!"

Setting down a platter of french toast on the table, Harry waved her into a chair. "Sit down and dig in while it's hot."

Passing her a plate, Harry took one himself, and started filling it with bacon, french toast and fruit. He felt really hungry as he drizzled on the maple syrup.

"So, why all this?" Clementine asked, pouring them both coffee from a carafe.

Harry was chewing his first bite, loving the cinnamon and vanilla flavors in the french toast. He had gotten away from cooking lately, and it felt good to eat home cooked food. "Just giving you a little treat. But this is also a business meeting."

She looked intrigued. "Oh really?" Things had quieted down for her lately, since the gay dating campaign had finished. She had been handling his normal charity paperwork and requests, but it was hardly a full time job lately.

"You know I've been going to therapy for a couple months now and I'm back to work half-time." It had been a lot of work with Dr. Mendosa, reviewing and questioning so many things from his past. "Things are getting back to normal and I want something positive to focus my energy on."

Clementine was slim and not that tall, but the woman could eat. She was already dishing herself seconds of bacon. "Like what?"

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He still got emotional when talking about this, feeling tension and his heart beating faster. "Um, well, helping Sera get into a good placement made me realize that there are a lot of kids in need out there. I'd like to see what we could do."

Looking at Harry with big hazel eyes, Clementine was so excited she almost couldn't speak for a full minute. "Oh yes! That would be fantastic! I'd love to work in that area."

"I need you to help me see what we could do, where the need is the greatest. I'd prefer it to be around orphans and other at risk kids." Harry felt a bubble of excitement, and knew this could be something great. A way to use his influence to help those who really needed it.

The rest of the breakfast they threw out ideas, until the food was all gone and Clementine ran up to her office to start researching everything.

Humming to himself, Harry used his wand to move all the dirty dishes into the sink and fill it with hot, soapy water. He washed the dishes by hand, thinking over all of Clementine's suggestions.

...

"All good?" Ron asked, as they were about to enter a rundown building.

Dr. Mendosa had commended Harry for his progress, and had cleared him to back to work a month ago. Harry continued to see him on a weekly basis, knowing his therapy wasn't going to be easy or quick.

Ron had welcomed him back, but he definitely checked in on Harry more often like this. At first it had irked Harry a bit, but he realized that his friend was trying to keep him out of trouble. And Harry knew himself better now, and would hopefully be able to recognize a problem before it blew up again. Ron would have his back if he needed to step away.

Harry nodded to his friend, and they crept into the building, wands drawn. They were hoping to bust one of the potion ingredient smugglers Theo had mentioned in his confession.

Two hours later, they had the suspect in custody, and Ron was giving him a pleased smile. The dirty flat was crammed full of illegal powders, and this would be a major blow to many criminals.

"I can't believe you got him with a _Rictusempra_ charm! Who else would even think of doing that in a duel?" Ron chuckled, as they went into a pub.

Harry grinned back, still on an adrenaline-high from the bust. "Well, a blasting charm would be dangerous with all those unknown products so close. The tickling charm made it impossible for him to attack us."

The suspect had dropped his wand, giggling loudly as he fell to the ground, squirming around like a dozen hands were tickling him. It had been pretty amusing to watch the big thug being disarmed that way.

"It reminds me of all those spells and charms we learned preparing you for the Tri-Wizard tournament. Remember the jelly legs curse? Maybe I should brush up on that one." Ron lowered himself down to the table, and grabbed a menu.

Harry looked over to read the daily specials on a chalkboard near the bar. "Mmmmmm shepherd's pie."

It felt good to eat lunch with his old friend, talking over the bust, knowing he had done a good job. Every shift that went smoothly made him feel a bit more confident, more normal. He could tell Ron was getting comfortable with him again as well.

At the end of the meal, Ron left to use the washroom after the server had cleared their plates away. Harry yawned, feeling a bit sleepy now after the big meal. His eyes landed on a newspaper lying discarded on neighboring table. A picture caught his eye. Draco Malfoy. Snatching up the paper, Harry slumped back on to his chair, his eyes avidly reading every word.

**Death Eater Returns!**

**After disappearing for over a decade, former Death Eater Draco Malfoy, 28, attended the opening of nightclub Vipers and Vixens Saturday night. He was in the company of Blaise Zambini, former Slytherin schoolmate at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.**

**Draco Malfoy was last seen at the post-war trials where his father, Lucius Malfoy, was found guilty and sent to Azkaban prison. Draco and his mother, Narcissa Malfoy, had escaped with not guilty verdicts in their own trials, largely due to the testimony of Harry Potter and other members of the Order of the Phoenix.**

**Malfoy socialized at the nightclub until after 1 am, when he departed alone and apparated to an unknown destination.**

...

Most shocking of all was the picture that accompanied the short piece. Draco was wearing tight black jeans and dragon hide boots. His black dress shirt was fitted, showing off his slim torso, the top button undone. He had a light tan, making his blue-grey eyes pop, and he had a light scruff of whiskers along his jawline. He looked young and drop dead sexy.

Harry felt like he had that first session at the brothel, a surge of pure lust almost overpowering him. Fuck, even after all these months, this man just totally did it for him.

Ron came back just then, giving Harry a puzzled frown. "Is everything OK?"

Flipping the newspaper face down, Harry tried his hardest to look normal. "Um, yeah. Ready to go?"

Putting money on the table to cover his meal, Ron nodded. But when Harry did the same and got up to leave, Ron snatched the newspaper from his slackened grasp, nimbly stepping a few feet away, and reading the newspaper.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._ Harry's stomach dropped about a foot. There was no way to get out of this. He slumped back down to his chair in defeat, running his hands over his face.

Ron had obviously seen Harry's expression before he came back to the table, and from the looks he was shooting between the paper and Harry, putting it all together. After a couple minutes, he sat back down across from him, and leaned forward. "You like Draco Malfoy."

It was a statement, not a question, and Harry suddenly felt compassion for all the suspects Ron had interrogated. He felt pinned under his steady gaze, wanting to squirm in his seat and look away. There was a quiet intensity to him that Harry simply could not escape. "Yes," Harry finally confessed, the word shaky and soft.

Ron's eyes widened and he sat up so quickly his back thumped against his chair. He blinked fast, obviously processing this new information. Harry tried not to cringe in discomfort as he imagined what could be running through his mind.

"Even back in school? Did you and he ever...?" Ron said softly, seeming to fumble for how to finish the question.

"No!" Harry immediately refuted, but then looked around self-consciously, realizing how loudly he had objected. "Um, it started earlier this year. In the spring."

Ron's eyes widened again. "He's the guy in that picture with you!"

"Would you keep your fucking voice down," Harry hissed at him, his eyes darting around to see if anyone was watching them. "Let's get out of here."

Scooping up the newspaper, Harry walked out, leaving Ron to trail after him. He walked fast, his heart already pounding hard from the confrontation.

After a few blocks, he veered into an empty park and sat on the edge of a low brick wall. He sighed, looking up at Ron as he approached. "Ask me whatever you want." It would be better to just get this over with.

Ron crossed his arms over his chest, thinking for a minute. "Did stuff go on between you at school, or prior to this year?"

Shaking his head, Harry thought back to his interactions with Draco at Hogwarts. "No, it was exactly as you saw it. We were enemies, rivals. He was too busy being a prat back then to even think of him any other way."

That comment made Ron's brows rise. "Were you thinking about other guys 'in another way' back then?"

Harry made a sound halfway between a scoff and a laugh, and it diffused the tension between them. "When did I know I was gay? Is that what you are really asking?" He thought about it. "Really, it really didn't even occur to me until a couple years after Hogwarts, when things had settled down a bit more. Ginny and I had split up, and I really wasn't feeling interested in even dating someone else. But then I felt attracted to a guy and it completely shocked me. I was in denial for a while after that."

Ron glanced at the newspaper in Harry's hand. "So, when did it start with Draco?"

"Earlier this year. I vaguely told you about running into an old friend. It was surprising to see him after all these years, let alone feeling attracted to each other. It was a bit rocky in the beginning, but we were just starting to really date when that stupid, fucking picture leaked."

Ron sat down beside Harry, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. His best friend knew the aftermath of that, how hard Harry had taken the guy vanishing, being outed against his will. "What now? Why is Draco back, and appearing in public? Where has he been all these years? What has he been doing?"

Harry just looked off into the trees of the park, watching them swaying in the wind. He finally gave a small shrug. "I don't know where he has been the last few months, but I think he was mostly in London before that. He lived in the muggle areas, and worked disguised in the wizarding world. I have no idea why he is back and being so public about it, after all these years."

He had avoiding saying what type of work Draco had done previously, but Ron didn't seem to notice. "I can tell you still have feelings for him, despite the way he abandoned you at the first sign of trouble."

Sighing, Harry nodded. "I feel like such a fool. I even talked about him not long ago with Dr. Mendosa and he said Draco wasn't a good partner for me. That people with my kind of issues often pick inappropriate relationships, and repeat old patterns. That we don't feel like we deserve to be loved and treated right."

Ron tugged him closer, turning to give him a hug. Harry lowered his face against his shoulder, trying to keep from letting some tears escape. Ron simply rubbed his hands against his back in a comforting gesture. It felt good to just have his company and unconditional acceptance, giving him the time to get himself back together.

Harry was the first one to pull back, giving Ron a wobbly smile. "Thanks."

"Whenever you need to talk, you know where I am." Ron stood up, and looked around. "We better get back to the office. Greaves is probably through booking now."

Welcoming the thought of getting back to work, just to think about something else for a while, Harry got up and apparated.

...

Harry's eyes traced along V-neck of Draco's white t-shirt, down his slim chest, and over his long denim clad legs. The magical image showed him pulling on a helmet, already straddling a low slung motorcycle, the 'Indian' logo in bold letters on the gas tank. He was wearing a black leather jacket, and the dragon hide boots. Basically a wet dream on legs.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

Sighing, Harry turned the paper over and tried to concentrate on the papers spread out in the table. He should be getting used to it by now, as images of Draco seemed to show up often in the papers, with a very unsatisfying amount of information. Out with friends at hot nightclubs and restaurants, always dressed to the nines, laughing and seeming to have a great time without a care in the world.

He had been thrown the most by the small article with accompanying picture of Draco dressed in a suit, leaving a Diagon Alley building with papered-up windows, with a well known builder at his side. The article was light on the details, but gave the impression that Draco had bought a large commercial space. It was in a busy area, well away from the dark twists of Knockturn Alley.

Could Draco be opening a business? Harry felt a bit breathless at the idea. It would mean that Draco was really back and trying to become a part of regular society, after being on the fringes so long. It meant he might even be putting down roots, and planning to stay. Or would he open the business and vanish again? Hire a manager and run it from afar?

Somehow, Harry didn't think Draco would be appearing in public so much unless it was part of his overall plan. He was far too intelligent. Getting a building in such a central area said a lot about his intentions. Draco was not hiding any more.

Letting out a frustrated huff, Harry marched across the room to pour himself some firewhiskey. Whatever Draco's plans were, they didn't include Harry. He knew where Harry lived and worked, and hadn't even bothered to send him an owl. Their past was evidently in the past, and it was time for Harry to finally fucking put it behind him.

Swallowing the last of the drink, Harry set the glass down with a thump and focussed back on the papers. Clementine had done a huge amount of excellent research, looking into all the areas they had discussed at that brunch.

Twenty minutes later, Clementine knocked softly on the door of his study and entered. "What do you think?"

Harry leaned back and gave her a wide grin. "I'm feeling excited and overwhelmed. Do you really think we can do this?"

She sat across the table from him, looking down at the plans. "We will take it one step at a time, and fine tune things as we go. You have made so many connections with non-profits and government officials over the years, I think you can have a big impact."

It still felt amazing. In their initial discussion, Harry and Clementine had both shared the injustices many children faced. Kids like Sera who needed extra care and stable people in her life. Scholarships to help less wealthy kids afford all the supplies for Hogwarts. Orphans who needed foster families.

Clementine had researched everything to see what people were already doing. There were areas that Harry could partner with others, supporting their work. He would help bridge the gaps.

"When do you think we can launch the first phase?" Harry asked.'

Clementine tapped her fingers against the table as she thought. "Probably in about three months. It is the scholarship for Hogwarts, and the easiest phase. You are used to drumming up donations and it will mostly be a launch of your charity with a big gala."

Harry chuckled. "I've been to enough of them over the years, it will be odd to host my own."

It was scary and exciting. This was something that could really touch the lives of many children and give them better foundations for successful adult lives. If everything went well, it could eventually grow to become Harry's full time career. Being an auror had been great, but he could see easing out of it within the next five years or so as the charity grew.

Clementine's eyes fell on the newspaper. "It looks like you aren't the only one starting a new venture. Any guesses what Draco Malfoy could be up to?"

"No fucking idea," Harry sighed, and grabbed his empty glass to go refill it.

Her sharp eyes took in his expression and flicked back to the newspaper. "Hmmm maybe I'll check around and see what I can find out. He likely had to file a building permit and it will be available to the public at the ministry."

Firewhiskey had a pleasant burn as he swallowed, and Harry tried for a nonchalant shrug. "Sounds good."

His assistant smirked a little to herself as she left his study.

...

-A/N: Draco's back! yay!


	17. Chapter 17

**Exclusive!**

**Draco Malfoy: His Past, Present and Dreams of the Future**

**Former Death Eater Tells All!**

Harry almost fell over when he read the headline of the Prophet as he walked to work. He had never subscribed to the damn paper, resenting how often they still mentioned him, making up stories if need be. It felt like committing a crime to pull money out of his pocket to actually buy a copy.

He wasn't the only one. Everywhere he looked, it seemed like every adult was avidly reading the article.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

What would Draco say about their history together? Would he mention dating? Would he talk about his new business?

Not caring that he'd be late for work, Harry detoured into a park and sat on a bench, needing to be on his own to absorb this. Taking a deep breath, Harry started reading.

...

**Draco Malfoy, 28, is a man with a plan. After spending a decade living and working with muggles, he is ready to come back to the wizarding world.**

**But he has learned a lot from his self-imposed exile. "I grew up with a very narrow view on the world. Traveling and needing to adapt to a wide variety of situations opened my eyes. I met people from all walks of life, and actually listened to what they had to say."**

**Malfoy is the only child of Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa (Black) Malfoy, active Death Eaters in both wizarding wars. Draco had little choice but to follow in their footsteps as a teenager. But by the end of the war, even his parents were disillusioned by the Dark Lord, as they called Voldemort.**

**"My parents left during the middle of the Battle at Hogwarts. I think they saw how close I had come to being killed," Draco said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "My mother and I would probably be in Azkaban if it wasn't for the testimony of some members of the other side. I am so grateful for that."**

**Unfortunately, his father went to the wizard prison and died there three years later. His mother, like many Death Eaters who survived the war, left the country to live abroad.**

**"Despite everything, I miss my parents. My father never saw me as an adult. I hope he would be proud of me now," Draco adds. "I have kept in touch with my mother with letters, and visited her when I could afford it."**

**Once among our wealthiest families, the post war reclamation payments forced his family to sell the manor that had been in his family for generations and left them penniless. Draco escaped to work in the muggle world, where he wasn't recognized.**

**"I was completely helpless at first, dealing with their technology," Draco chuckles, running a hand through his hair. "The telephone would ring at work, and all the muggles would stare at me, urging me to pick up the receiver, and I'd be giving them back a blank look. They must have thought I was a complete idiot."**

**This open, self-deprecating Draco Malfoy of today is much different than Draco of his youth. "It's embarrassing now to think back on how awful I was then. I was racist against anyone who wasn't Pureblood, and took great pleasure in bullying others. It was more than just being a Slytherin. I thought my actions were justified."**

**When asked what caused him to change, Draco takes a minute to consider it. "Losing everything, living paycheque to paycheque, taking horrible jobs just to survive. The first couple years were awful. Then I met compassionate people who helped pull me out of the muck. I was bitter and lost, but I eventually started taking a good look at how the world really was. My eyes were fully open for the first time."**

**When asked what type of work he has been doing the past decade, Draco gives a dismissive wave. "Anything and everything. Eventually, working as a barista in a cafe next to a huge used bookstore. It really was my salvation."**

**Draco goes on to explain that he didn't have much money to do things in his off hours, so he started reading muggle books. Many of the cafe patrons were also avid readers, giving him book suggestions. "It was like an informal university degree. I read books on every topic. Great literature to pulp fiction."**

**Clearly passionate about the topic, his plans for his new business on Diagon Alley make complete sense. "I am opening a huge bookstore, packed full of new and used books. Muggle and wizarding."**

**Under construction now, Draco hopes it will open in three weeks. "Next to the shop, there is a cafe that a friend will run, and I will be holding frequent special events there in the evenings. Book signings with prominent authors, panel discussions about hot topics. I want it to be a forum for ideas to safely and openly be discussed and debated. 'Openness of mind strengthens the truth in us and removes the dross from it, if there is any.'"**

**When asked about his recent nightclub sightings, Draco just shrugs with a small smirk. "Hey, I'm still a relatively young man, and want to go out and have fun. It has been good spending time reconnecting with old friends, getting to meet new ones. Seeing if there are any good gay bars."**

**Unapologetic about his bold fashion sense or his sexuality, Draco seems like the ideal of the millennial wizard. A self-made man, ready to take on new ventures and challenge old ideas.**

...

Harry just stared at the moving image of Draco, leaning back to cross sinfully long legs clad in tight black jeans, a laughing smile on his handsome face. He had never looked better, the indigo blue fitted dress shirt skimming over his slim torso, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show a hint of his faded death eater tattoo. His hair was still the dark blond shade, but worn longer than Harry had ever seen it. A shaggy, tousled mess that suited him, and fit with the scruff of whiskers along his jaw.

The biggest difference was in Draco's expression. His easy, confident smile, and his open and friendly gaze. This was a man who knew who he was, and wasn't afraid to chase his dreams.

It was so fucking hot. Harry's heart was pounding in his chest, and he felt a bit breathless. This Draco was so different than the man he had known a few months ago. This man was passionate and so open, bravely facing up to his past and present, and telling the whole world he was here in a big, bad way, and they better just get used to it. He felt more attracted to him than ever before.

It also shocked Harry how casually Draco mentioned being gay and that the article didn't sensationalize it. Was this the same paper that had made Harry's life a living hell over his sexuality? Was it simply because Harry was 'outed' and already such a public figure? Or had his gay dating campaign all those months helped ease the way for other gay people?

The other shocking thing was that Draco didn't mention Harry at all. He didn't know if he should feel angry or relieved at that. Anyone who knew Draco at all in the past also knew that Harry was the one he fought with the most at Hogwarts. Knew he was the one whose testimony kept his mother and Draco out of prison.

Harry wasn't that surprised that Draco was opening a bookstore. It made perfect sense with the Draco he had come to know in the spring. His lies about his past work made sense. Saying he worked with muggles was easier than admitting to being a dom in a brothel.

Overall, he just felt thrown by Draco coming back this way. Tucking the newspaper into his messenger bag, Harry rushed to get to work in time. He felt confused, his thoughts full of Draco and trying to piece together how he had gone from the man Harry knew a few months ago to this new version.

Where had he been all this time? Why had he come back? What did he want?

It seemed like he was trying to make the foundation for a regular part of society, looking to have his past forgiven and forgotten, accepted by the wizarding world. Other death eaters had done it, when their past crimes weren't that bad. The rest had been imprisoned or fled the country.

Draco was brave, coming back and facing his past, showing that he had changed. Opening a business was a risky venture that depended on people accepting him, and becoming customers.

Was that why he hadn't contacted Harry? Was he so busy establishing himself and his business he didn't have time for Harry? Or was he simply not interested anymore? Either way, sooner or later, they were bound to cross paths. Harry wasn't sure if he was anticipating or dreading it.

...

Draco smiled drunkenly, and held up a bottle, toasting with his friends. Three young, attractive men were crowded around him, looking equally under the influence and just as determined to have a good time.

Harry gritted his teeth, folding his paper in half and shoving it into his bag. As he walked to work, he saw the newspaper everywhere, with people reading avidly and gossiping with their friends. It felt like a constant buzz of the words 'Draco Malfoy' being repeated everywhere he went.

Fine, the git was back. Fine, he was gay and seemed determined to be seen out with every wizard twink in the city. A few days ago, the newspaper had even had a paparazzi photo of him making out with some guy in a doorway. Fine, everyone seemed fascinated with this bad boy turned mostly good, and eagerly awaited the opening of his bookstore. Every time Harry passed the site, he saw it well on its way to being completed.

Flourish and Blotts was even trying to compete, offering big sales and repainting the outside. Harry felt bad for the business, battling against Draco's flashiness. Last week, he went in and bought a few cookbooks, even though they were magic-based. He rarely used his wand in food preparation.

He rushed now to the restaurant, knowing he was running late. A bit breathless, he sat down at the table with his friends, the last to arrive. "Sorry," Harry mumbled, grabbing his menu and burying his nose into it after a quick look around. He needed a minute to calm down, get himself together.

Ron patted his shoulder. "Let's get you some coffee right away." He waved to the server who was touring the restaurant with a full coffee pot.

As soon as the server left, Harry scooped up the large mug with both hands and savored the richness of the hot beverage. He sighed, trying to relax.

"You are upset by that picture in the Prophet, aren't you," Hermione gave him an understanding nod. "It will be good when his damn bookstore opens and the novelty of having him around wears off."

Harry shot Ron an outraged look.

Ron squirmed in his chair, his gaze shifting between Hermione and Harry. "I didn't mean to tell her! It just slipped out in conversation one time."

"Oh, you mean about Harry loving Draco Malfoy? Isn't that common knowledge?"

Three heads whipped around to look at Luna Lovegood, who was calmly spreading clotted cream over a warm scone. She looked up, a little surprised to see everyone at the table staring at her. "Come on, you must have all known. It was obvious since sixth year."

She said it so matter-of-factly, like it was a widely accepted fact that even at Hogwarts, Harry had been gay and into Draco.

"Wasn't he into Cho or Ginny back then?" Hermione wrinkled her brow, trying to think back.

Ron shrugged. "Yeah, but he still followed Draco around. Constantly."

Thumping his mug down on to the table, Harry glared at each of them in turn. "Complete bullocks. Ginny and I got together in sixth year. I didn't even realize I was gay until years later."

"Well, whatever happened at school, we know you were involved with him earlier this year," Hermione said soothingly. "Have you been in contact at all since he's been back?"

Giving a big sigh and feeling tempted to roll his eyes, Harry just shook his head. It was better to just be open about it with his closest friends. "It hurts, knowing he is so near and wants nothing to do with me."

"Maybe he's just busy with opening up his bookstore. Promotion and all that," Hermione reached across the table to give his hand a squeeze.

Ron scoffed. "Not too busy to shove his tongue down young guys' throats."

Angry flared inside Harry at the comment, and he picked up his menu. He was sure Hermione delivered a quick kick to Ron's shin under the table to shut him up, and there was an uncomfortable silence that seemed to stretch for minutes.

"So, Luna, tell us about you new jewelry line," Hermione said with an overly cheerful tone, clearly trying to rescue the gathering.

Luna followed her lead, chatting easily about the designs that incorporated charms for safety against various unseen threats.

Harry let the words flow around him, lost in his own thoughts. Great, now three people knew he had been involved with Draco. How long before it spread to others? At least Ron didn't know that Draco had been at the brothel. At least that secret was still safe.

The server came by, and took their brunch order. Harry had calmed down enough to order Eggs Benedict, and joined in the conversation once she had left.

But the one phrase that kept popping into his thoughts for the rest of the meal was Luna calmly saying 'Harry loving Draco Malfoy'. Did he love Draco in the spring? He had been obsessed with him, lusted for him, liked him as a friend. But was it love too? Did he still love him now, despite the abrupt ending and all this time apart?

...

Draco stepped up to the raised podium, smiling at the applause and cheers from the large crowd gathered in front of the completed bookstore. He looked happy and confident, wearing a fitted steel blue suit with no tie.

"Thank you all for coming to the Grand Opening of my bookstore. I hope you will come often and reap great personal rewards from the knowledge you glean from these books.

"Some books you read. Some books enjoy. But some books swallow you up, heart and soul. They can be dangerous," he paused, giving a smile that was almost a smirk. "The best ones should be labelled 'This could change your life.'"

There were some cheers and applause to that comment, and Draco grinned widely, obviously loving the reaction. "Whoever said ignorance is bliss probably died a horrible death with a really surprised look on his face."

The joke sent laughter through the crowd, and Harry could feel people being charmed by him. Aside from Draco's old friends, and new gay club pals, there were many who came out of curiosity, wanting to see Draco first hand, and judge him for themselves. Was he truly a changed man? Had he really left behind his death eater past?

Harry stood in the shadows, hood pulled up to conceal his face. He couldn't have stayed away even if he tried. He was asking himself the same questions.

"In all the reading I've done the past decade, I want to share a line that has really stuck with me," Draco pulled out a piece of paper from his inner breast pocket. "It is from an nineteenth century American, Robert Ingersoll. 'Give me the storm and tempest of thought and action, rather than the dead calm of ignorance and faith! Banish me from Eden when you will; but first let me eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge!'"

Draco delivered the words with conviction and passion, lifting his wand to remove the obscuring spell from the sign above the store's double doors. The words 'Tempest Books' were revealed, in bold swirling text. On the right side of the sign were the stylized carvings of a stack of hardcover books with an apple perched on the top. A snake was curled beside it, it's tail twisted possessively around the base of the apple.

"Go now and read widely. Read books about all topics, with differing viewpoints. Learn as much as you can about the world. Slay ignorance and blind faith in outdated ideas! Challenge everything."

Draco pointed his wand at the doors, and they swung open dramatically. The crowd surged forward, jostling to be among the first in the bookstore. Harry saw many people he knew, including Hermione dragging along Ron.

Harry hung back in his shadow, letting the crowd disappear. His eyes were on Draco, drinking him in. It was the first time he had seen him with his own eyes since that trip.

Draco was chatting with his supporters, accepting many congratulatory handshakes and backslaps. He was smiling, his wide, friendly smile. The 'I've got nothing to hide, you can trust me' one. A wolf posing as a lamb?

Even as the thought occurred to Harry, he was dismissing it. He knew firsthand that Draco had changed. They had been together too much, talked too intimately, for that all to have been a ruse. And Harry doubted that anything that bad had happened to Draco to change him too drastically while he had been away. He thought Draco had likely gone to his mother's initially, and then found another place to quietly live while he figured things out. He now had the money to do almost anything he wanted, to start new anywhere.

Somehow, he had decided to open the bookstore on Diagon Alley, and do his best to become a part of the wizarding world again. Despite feeling hurt that Draco hadn't contacted him, Harry grudgingly acknowledged to himself that Draco was doing things right. His publicity campaign had reset his image in the public, and they were giving him a chance. Maybe Harry should just do that too.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by feeling someone staring at him. Looking around, he realized Draco was looking straight his way, even across the wide street. Seeing him despite the hood and shadows.

Cursing to himself for not disguising his features or using the Invisibility Cloak, Harry shrank back into a nearby alley. Draco took a couple steps his way, but was stopped by an older wizard's hand on his arm. He turned, engaging in some heated comments, and Harry slipped away while his attention was diverted.

...

Harry found he was breathing fast, his heart pounding, when he apparated into his house. Was it just seeing each other again, or the excitement of his escape? They were bound to cross paths occasionally, and he needed to find a way to be calmer about it. He probably should have just gone into the store with everyone else, just another face in the crowd. Maybe even shaken Draco's hand and congratulate him too. Diffused the tension between them. Let the past be in the past.

_Yeah right..._

Harry scoffed, and threw off the long cloak. He didn't know what to do with all this restless energy thrumming through his body. He considered relaxing in a hot bath, but it had no appeal. Getting drunk on firewhiskey? Nah. Running upstairs, he changed into some old comfortable clothes and went down to his fireplace, throwing in a pinch of floo powder and putting his face into the green flames.

"Dean?" He called out, just seeing an empty living room.

It took a couple minutes, but Dean soon appeared, giving him a big smile. "Harry! Good to see you!"

Harry felt relieved. "I'm just wondering if you wanted to get together for some quidditch. I haven't been on a broom in ages."

"Me neither. Right now?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, if we can get a few others to join us." Harry was already considering who else to contact.

Dean liked the plan, and they firmed up the details before ending the session, and contacting others.

Picking up his old Firebolt, Harry felt a twinge of excitement at having a few hours of riding around fast with friends, and likely ending the night with beer and pub grub. And none of them knew he liked Draco, so the topic probably wouldn't even come up. Just the distraction he needed.

...

-A/N:

-Quote ‘Openness of mind strengthens the truth in us and removes the dross from it, if there is any.': This is from Mahatma Gandhi (1869-1948), the Indian activist who sucessfully led the Indian independence movement against British rule, using nonviolent civil disobedience. He inspired movements for civil rights and freedom across the world.

-Quote: ‘Some books you read. Some books enjoy. But some books swallow you up, heart and soul.’ from Joanne Harris.

-Quote: ‘Books can be dangerous. The best ones should be labeled 'This could change your life' from Helen Exley.

-"Whoever said ignorance is bliss probably died a horrible death with a really surprised look on his face.": a quote from Lisa Shearin, from her book ‘Armed & Magical’.

-Robert Ingersoll. 'Give me the storm and tempest of thought and action, rather than the dead calm of ignorance and faith! Banish me from Eden when you will; but first let me eat of the fruit of the tree of knowledge!'  
Robert Ingersoll was part of the American ‘Golden Age of Freethought’ (roughly 1875-1914), a philosophical movement that holds that ideas and opinions should be based on science and reason, and not restricted by authority, tradition, or religion. It was fed by Charles Darwin’s ‘Origin of the Species’ (1859), women’s suffrage movement and public speakers like Ingersoll who challenged many old ideas. As an agnostic, he was famous for his skeptical approaches to popular religious beliefs.


	18. Chapter 18

"I can't believe he had Snodgrass debating against Whistleton! How was it?" Nathaniel leaned closer to his co-worker, obviously interested in the topic.

Folade just shook her head, her braids slipping to the side with the movement. "Amazing. Whistleton totally had him flustered and sputtering, flipping madly through his notes. It was epic."

Harry carried on to his own desk, and set a mug of tea in front of Ron. "Are they talking about Regina Whistleton, head of the Obliviator department?"

Taking a deep sip of the hot beverage, Ron gave an appreciative hum. "Oh yeah. Everyone's been saying she slayed at the Stormcloud last night."

"And who is Snodgrass?" Harry slumped down in his chair and piled his files to the side.

Ron shrugged, picking up a _Priori Incantatem_ report a specialist had done on a suspect's wand. "Some hot new author. Hermione read his book and has been raving about it. Something about reversing the Secrecy Statute."

As Ron concentrated on his work, Harry looked back towards Nathaniel and Folade, still avidly discussing ideas at the foundation of the modern wizarding world. Young aurors, fresh on the job, who usually discussed Quidditch or relationship issues when they weren't talking about a case.

It wasn't the first time he had encountered this. At the cafe getting his morning coffee, at the pub, picking up groceries, everywhere. Conversations about deeper topics, passionately argued. Students, seniors, mothers walking their young children to school.

A few times a week, there were special events at the Stormcloud Cafe, adjoining Draco's bookstore. Tickets were highly sought after, and the events reported on thoroughly in the newspapers to those who hadn't been fortunate enough to attend in person. Often pitting an author against an expert holding the opposite view.

Michael Corner, a Ravenclaw and former DA member, was said to be running the special events. Slytherin Millicent Bulstrode had even been hired as extra security and crowd control to keep the audience in line.

Harry had found out far too much about the whole operation from these overheard conversations and the articles in the papers. He couldn't keep from reading what was published or walking out of his way to pass the store almost every day.

_Pathetic._

It was almost like investigating a case. He had researched everyone involved, watched the store from a distance, kept up with the media. Most surprising was that the store was even busier now than when it had opened. Harry had expected it to be crowded for a week or two, while everyone checked out the novelty, soon to be replaced by the next new thing. But people kept coming back.

Draco had become even more famous, his picture appearing often at Stormcloud events, or going out to hot restaurants and nightclubs. He was being treated like a rock star. The man who had made reading cool again.

Now, it was grating every time Harry heard Draco's name mentioned or saw his pictures. Was this how Draco had felt about Harry in school? Irritated at all the people gushing on and on about him, and seeing all the newspaper mentions? Harry had always put it down to Draco being jealous of the attention, but seeing it from this side, it didn't feel like that.

It wasn't that Harry wanted the attention from people or the press directed back at him, away from Draco. He had been in the spotlight enough for ten lifetimes' worth.

Why did it bug him so much?

Harry just buried himself in his work, just needing to think about something other than Draco.

...

There was something nice about getting up early on the weekend, before everyone else was out. The cafe was quiet, and Harry leisurely ate a scone and sipped a large coffee as he read the paper.

Draco didn't make much of an appearance, just a second of him in the background of an image taken at a Stormcloud event last night. The debate had been over representation of women and minorities in the Wizengamot, and had gotten rather heated. Harry thought back to the time he had appeared before then for defending himself and his cousin against dementors. It had seemed to have a good variety of people.

He read on, catching up on Quidditch. Ginny was working as one of the coaches of a major team now, and seemed to enjoy it.

Afterwards, he toured around a farmer's market and bought fresh vegetables and herbs to make pasta sauce. He would go home, and make the sauce right away, letting it simmer and fill the house with the scent of garlic and tomato. He thought about inviting a friend or two over, but dismissed the idea. He was in the mood for a quiet night.

Deep in his own thoughts, he hadn't realized that he was walking past Draco's store until he was right beside it. It was still early in the day, with very few people out on Diagon Alley yet. Harry stopped, looking through the windows, and saw that the store looked almost empty.

Draco had been at the event last night, so Harry was betting he had some of his staff covering the store this morning. This would be the perfect time to finally go inside to look around. Finally satisfy his curiosity. Just a quick look, and then continue on home.

Heart already beating a bit faster, Harry didn't deliberate any longer. His hand was on the door handle, noticing it was in the shape of a snake, and pulled the door open. A bell gave a slight jingle.

Stepping into the store, Harry glanced around. It was a large space, with six foot tall bookshelves scattered among display tables. Bright book covers caught Harry's eye, making him pause and pick up a book to read the back. Large windows let in lots of morning sunlight, making the room almost glow golden. It was a quiet, peaceful, comforting space, and Harry could feel himself calming down.

There. He had seen the store. He had faced it, and survived. Time to go.

As he turned to walk around a bookcase, Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Draco Malfoy was standing right in front of him, holding a couple books in one hand. He seemed just as startled to see Harry as Harry was to see him, his eyes widening and he seemed stuck to his spot.

Harry's heart was hammering hard in his chest, and he stopped breathing, frozen just like Draco was. Desperately, Harry tried to think of something to say. _Nice store, so many good books. Congratulations. Nice seeing you. Goodbye._

Just some polite bullshit like that and he could escape. Walk past Draco and out the door that seemed a mile away now. He could do this. Just talk and go. Talk and fucking go. Go! Talk!

"Um, I...um...good-" Harry started, his face flushing as the words came out garbled. He stopped, catching his breath, trying to get a coherent thing to say.

Draco stepped closer, and Harry's auror training had him automatically stepping back, his back bumping against a wall. He looked up as Draco took another step towards him, right into his space, and grabbed his head with both hands. His mouth came down, the kiss hard and intense right from the start.

Harry heard a dull thumping noise and then his arms were wrapped around Draco tight, pulling him right against him. Sinking into the kisses, giving as good as he was getting, the world beyond this man completely disappearing.

Draco was the one to pull back first, breathing hard and his lips already kiss-swollen. His eyes flicked up to Harry's, and he could see the raw desire there. It made long buried feelings jump to attention inside Harry, a powerful zing of arousal running through his whole body.

"Fuck..." Draco whispered, looking around and seeming to come back to realizing where they were. His hand grabbed Harry's hard as he stepped away, and pulled him towards the back of the store.

He leaned towards a burgundy curtain. "Willamina, I’m going upstairs. Will you cover the front?"

There was a grunt of assent from the backroom, and Draco immediately dragged Harry towards a door marked 'Private'. Pulling it open, Harry got a glimpse of a staircase before Draco was swiftly climbing it. His hand was still firmly holding Harry's, tugging him along.

It felt like he was caught in a whirlwind, from Draco kissing him to being suddenly in his upstairs flat, the door slamming behind them and Draco finally letting his hand go.

Harry barely had time to look around before Draco was on him again, arms holding him tight and his mouth crashing down on Harry's. He tipped his head back, pushing into the kiss with as much hunger, a moan of pure want escaping him as he shifted closer.

They were both falling then, Harry landing awkwardly on top of Draco on a queen-sized bed. Draco must have been maneuvering them towards it without Harry even noticing. Rolling away with a chuckle, Harry sprawled out on the bedspread beside Draco, trying to catch his breath.

"Draco, we should-" Harry started, but completely lost his train of thought when Draco crawled on top of him, his hair hanging down around his face, his eyes darkened and intense. It reminded Harry of that morning in the cabin, seeing such pure need reflected there.

Reaching up, Harry dug a hand into Draco's hair, pulling him down. The kiss was immediately deep and dirty, and Harry could feel Draco sinking right against him, bodies in complete contact. Draco was the one to moan this time, and Harry could feel himself getting completely hard in response.

This was wild and messy. Hungry kisses, hands going everywhere, clothes being tugged away. Draco let out a frustrated grunt, sitting up and hauling his own shirt off over his head. Harry was sure a button pinged off in the process.

The view was spectacular, a half-naked rumpled Draco straddling him. Harry's hands went to his jean-clad hips, and arched upwards, letting Draco feel how hard he was.

Draco's eyes were hooded, reaching down to undo the zipper on his hoodie and push his t-shirt up. He ran appreciative fingers over Harry's firm stomach, and slipped them down to his waistband.

Harry's breath caught and he closed his eyes tight when he felt Draco starting to undo his jeans. He was so aroused and this was so close to fantasies he'd been having for months. It was hard holding back, feeling a rush of desire as Draco ran a hand over his cock, only thin underwear covering it.

"Fuck..." Harry groaned, and rolled to the side. Draco shifted off him, his brow arched, but he settled on his back to watch with a smirk as Harry stood beside the bed to yank his t-shirt and hoodie off, almost choking himself in his rush. His undone jeans were already slipping down his legs, and he kicked and pushed them off impatiently, nearly falling over in the process.

When he looked up again, Draco had his hips lifted off the bed, working his own tight jeans downwards. Harry went to his side of the bed to help, watching avidly as his long legs were revealed inch by inch. Delicious torture.

Both now in just their underwear, they met in the middle of the bed. Sharing a couple hard kisses, Draco drew back slightly. "Are you sure this is OK?" He looked younger, a bit vulnerable, as he waited for an answer.

Harry just scoffed, rolling Draco onto his back and shifting to lie between his legs. "This is so fucking perfect, I'm scared I'll wake up any second."

Draco seemed to glow at that comment, reaching up a hand to tangle in Harry's thick, messy hair, and tug him down. Harry gave him a slow, firm kiss, just wanting to really feel it, but the way Draco writhed beneath him made it difficult to concentrate. His hands pushing Harry's underwear down made it clear Draco didn't want to take things slow.

Harry returned the favor, and it felt wonderful to be naked in bed with this man. The golden sunlight seemed to make Draco too beautiful to resist, and Harry kissed his way down his chest, worshipping every inch of his skin.

Taking a moment, Harry looked up to admire Draco naked and sprawled out against his pillows. Draco's eyes opened, and he put a hand on Harry's head, pushing him firmly where he wanted him.

Harry loved it, getting a sample of Draco's dom side, and obediently opened his mouth to take Draco in. He watched his expression as he sucked him deep, and then bobbed his head fast, really getting Draco going, before pulling back to lick and suck at the tip. Teasing him.

Draco was too aroused for that, and he simply grabbed Harry's head and pushed in deep, almost choking him. He didn't let up, humping his hips up off the bed, using Harry for his own pleasure. It was dirty and nasty and completely selfish, and Harry was totally loving it.

He snuck a hand down to his own cock, precum making it slick enough to fuck his own fist as he struggled to suck Draco and still breathe. His eyes were watering, his head hurt where Draco was tugging on his hair, and he wasn't sure if he would pass out or cum first.

Draco arched up with a throaty moan, and Harry was right with him, his own orgasm ripping through him and leaving him gasping against Draco's heaving chest.

Once he had his breath back, Harry rolled off to the side and crawled up to lie beside Draco. Draco reached over to grab his wand, and cleaned them up with a chuckle, before pulling the sheet over them.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, feeling a bit lost for words. What could he even say? _I guess you are happy to see me again?_

He was saved from saying anything by feeling Draco kissing his shoulder. The blond met his eyes, and moved to kiss along his collarbone. Even though it was so soon, just having this man exploring his body felt too good to do anything but lay back and savor it.

All the rough, frantic urgency was gone, and Draco was gentle and thorough. Harry had never had a lover kiss and nibble all over his neck, discovering spots that made him shiver in response. Draco seemed to delight in these, returning to those places, his caresses a little more intense each time.

By the time he had teased his way down his chest, Harry was completely hard again. The thought of Draco going down on him was such a frequent fantasy, he was practically holding his breath in anticipation.

Draco seemed to know it, his glances full of sinful promise that practically had Harry begging for it. When he finally took hold of him, stroking him slowly, Harry sighed in relief. But it wasn't long until he was needing more, moving his hips to hopefully speed Draco up.

Instead, Draco took his hand away entirely. Harry grunted in frustration, getting Draco to look up at him with a smirk. Still holding his gaze, he lowered his head, and gave the tip of Harry's cock a long lick.

He stopped teasing Harry then, using his hands and mouth in perfect harmony, pulling moan after moan from Harry. It was fantastic, but over far too fast.

Harry took several minutes to be able to breath properly again. "Holy shit, Malfoy."

That made Draco grin as he stretched out beside Harry, looking quite pleased with himself. "You were quite impressive yourself."

That was good to hear, but Draco had definitely been guiding him. Perhaps in time he would learn exactly what Draco liked. Would there be time to learn that?

"Um...what just happened...um, today...," Harry started, not quite sure how to complete his question.

Draco seemed quite amused by Harry's awkwardness. "The sex? Yes, what about it?"

Harry blinked a few times. It still caught him by surprise the way men could be more straightforward about the subject than women he had known. He decided to be straightforward too.

"Arewegoingtodothisagain?" Harry said, the words coming out in a rush. He cringed inwardly at the awful delivery.

Draco didn't laugh, but one corner of his lips lifted slightly. His eyes fell to Harry's mouth, lingering there, before returning to his eyes. "Well, I'm game for it if you are."

His words were casual, but the way his eyes were going down his body, making Harry feel very conscious of his nakedness under the sheet, showed his interest.

"I didn't mean right now. I meant in the future," Harry said quickly.

Draco chuckled, sitting up on the edge of the bed. He lifted his arms up in a long stretch, sighing. "Yes, I suppose I should go back to work eventually." He turned his head to look back over his shoulder coyly. "Perhaps we could get together on the weekend."

The way Draco was sitting had twisted the sheet so it pooled around his waist in the front, but left his back and ass totally exposed. Harry enjoyed the view, his eyes traveling down that beautiful expanse of pale, bare skin.

He sat up behind Draco, and kissed a line from his shoulder to his ear. "Or you could lie down and let me kiss my way down your spine."

Draco's gaze warmed, and he was soon stretched out facedown on the bed. Harry grinned to himself as he took it all in. This could take a while.

...

-A/N: Yay! Sexy times finally (told you it was a slow burn). 


	19. Chapter 19

"Harry!" Ron hissed, following it with a hard nudge with his shoulder, "Wake up."

Blinking hard a few times, Harry straightened his head and tried to refocus on the meeting going on around him. He had only let his eyelids shut for a moment, but must have dozed off for a while. They were discussing appropriate uses of the jiggly legs spell. Using it on co-workers carrying large trays of coffee wasn't one of them.

Harry shifted on his chair, trying to keep alert. It was easier when he was actively moving or working, not listening to people droning on and on. His head was drooping down a little.

"Mr. Potter!"

An authoritative voice rang out, and Harry's head snapped up so fast he almost got whiplash. He could hear Ron stifling a chuckle beside him, and nudged his leg with his own.

His supervisor, Matilda Dankworth, was glaring at him. "Are we boring you, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." Best to apologize straight away. "Not at all. Please continue."

She glared at him for a few extra seconds before looking away and continue to review how to fill in the new post-interrogation checklist.

Harry barely made it to the end of the meeting, needing to often pinch his leg hard through his trousers just to stay awake. When it was finally over, he was one of the first to leave the room, striding to the washroom to splash water on his face to revive himself.

He looked at his face in the mirror, noticing his tired eyes, and paler than normal pallor to his skin. He tugged at his collar, making sure it still covered the red mark on his neck.

Ron smirked at him as he slumped back into his office chair, and passed him a big mug of coffee from the office kitchenette. "Maybe this will help."

"Thanks, mate." Harry gratefully accepted it, and took a long sip. It was almost too hot, but he continued drinking it.

"This is the third time you've come to the office like this lately," Ron said softly, leaning forward so their coworkers wouldn't overhear. "Are you having problems sleeping or something?"

 _Or something._ Harry tried to keep his expression from showing anything as the previous night replayed in his mind. Waking up in the middle of the night to Draco sucking his cock, realizing he wasn't just having an incredible vivid and dirty dream. He had only been able to writhe and groan as Draco teased and played with him, working lubed fingers into his ass. He'd never has anyone do that while blowing him before, and it led to a really intense orgasm.

Harry had to return the favor, trying the same technique on Draco, loving the sounds he made when he took him deep and held him there, and tapped and stroked his prostate. It seemed drive Draco crazy, leading to him eventually grabbing Harry's head to thrust faster. Harry loved Draco like that, being almost out of control. Knowing he had pushed Draco to that state.

As intense as the sex was, he had almost liked the cuddling afterwards more. Draco was beautiful in the silvery moonlight softly illuminating the bedroom, and Harry traced lightly over his skin. They shared lazy, sweet kisses, and he eventually fell asleep with his legs tangled around Draco's.

"Um, yeah...a bit..." Harry finally answered, realizing he had left Ron hanging.

His response didn't mollify his partner, who simply gave Harry a thorough look over. His auror gaze was picking up clues, and Harry had a sinking feeling when his eyes lingered on his neck. "You were having sex!" he hissed accusingly, a realization dawning in his eyes. "That's why you were sleepy those other times too!"

_Fuck, fuck, fuck...How to get out of this..._

"Um, well, yeah..." Harry said, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

Ron's eyes widened at the admission, and then they narrowed again. "Fuck, it was Draco, wasn't it? You haven't been dating anyone for a while now."

Sighing, Harry could only nod. "Look, it's kinda new and I have no idea if it will lead to anything. It will probably burn itself out in no time."

"Didn't your therapist say he wasn't a good guy to be with? I don't want to see you getting hurt again." Ron had sat back in his chair, now looking at Harry with concern in his eyes. A look Harry was sick of seeing.

"It's just sex!" Harry growled, and pushed his chair back hard to get up. He left the office quickly, knowing his actions were probably getting some raised eyebrows. He had been so careful to control his emotions at work since that bad interrogation incident.

He found himself outside, and the cool, fresh air felt good on his flushed skin. Taking some long, deep breaths, Harry consciously tried to relax.

The last week with Draco had been amazing. There had been messages almost every day, short and filthy, usually something like yesterday's 'I want to bite your neck while I cum on the small of your back.' Harry usually responded with a 'See you at 6' or whenever he was done work. And Draco had done just what he promised, leaving a mark on Harry's neck that turned him on every time he saw it in the mirror.

It almost felt like he was under the influence of some lust potion, still wanting Draco so much. Even exhausted, they couldn't stop exploring and touching each other, often leading to another round of sex. It was wonderful, but obviously it was to the point of interfering with his work now.

Harry could see he had three options. Quit work, quit Draco, or quit spending the night when he had work the next day. There was no way he was going to stop seeing Draco while things were going so well, despite what his therapist had said in the past.

Quitting work was something that wouldn't have even occurred to Harry a year ago, but since cutting back on his hours and taking a good, long look at everything, his views around his job had changed. He did want to be in a long term relationship and adopt kids eventually, and transitioning to a safer career made sense. He had enough money saved to probably retire now, since he had inherited his house and didn't live a flashy lifestyle. But what would he do with his time? Perhaps the charity would keep him busy once it was launched.

He dragged a hand through his hair. That left the last option, not spending the night with Draco when he had work in the morning. This would be really hard to do. He tried to picture pulling away after sex, feeling relaxed and happy, and leaving Draco's bed when he was naked and cuddly. So beautiful like that. Last night, he had spooned Draco, and lazily ran his fingers through his hair, the silky texture so different than his own. Draco had almost been purring from the caresses, holding Harry's other hand and playing with his fingers.

Harry almost wanted to take some time off to just be with Draco as much as possible. Things were so intense between them right now, but Harry knew it couldn't last. Sooner or later, the attraction between them would fade and Draco would probably get bored and go back to dating younger men again. Guys who liked to party and go wild. All he could do was enjoy being with Draco while it lasted. Draco had his new business to run as well, so probably would eventually want more time for that.

Resolute, Harry squared his shoulders and went back to work. He would finish up, then go over to Draco's, but leave at a decent hour to get some sleep. He had to be an adult about this, not drop everything just to be with Draco.

...

Apparating to the quiet alley behind Tempest Books, Harry could already feel his heart beating fast in anticipation. He entered through the back door, familiar with the password he had to whisper to get through the wards. The backroom had a storage area for extra stock, a desk overflowing with papers, and a small table with three chairs around it, used coffee cups and a plate with a couple leftover biscuits on it.

Harry scooped them up, crunching on them as he peeked around the curtain to the store beyond. It was quiet, only Willamina, Draco's full time worker, steadily unpacking a crate of books on to an empty shelf. He snuck past when her face turned away, his auror training making him good at moving almost silently. He slipped through the door marked Private, Draco's wards allowing him through.

Running up the stairs, Harry was already feeling aroused. Going into the simple flat, he looked around, and found Draco curled up in a large armchair that faced a window overlooking Diagon Alley. The sun was setting, the warm light highlighting Draco's profile as he bent over a thick book.

He looked up, his lips quirking up into a slow smirk. He closed the book, setting it on the floor. He beckoned Harry closer, grabbing the front of his shirt to drag him down for a kiss. It was a bit awkward, bending over Draco that way, but Harry was too lost in the kiss to really care.

Draco backed off with a chuckle. "You have cookie crumbs on your face," his eyes fond as he brushed them away.

Harry shrugged. "I was a bit hungry so I grabbed some from downstairs."

Sitting up straighter, Draco rolled his shoulders and stretched. "Mmmmm, I'm hungry too, come to think of it."

"Do you want me to cook you something?" Harry offered, taking advantage of Draco's position to kiss along his neck. The first time he had come up here, they had been really hungry after a couple hours, and Harry had remembered the food he had brought. Draco had snuck downstairs and picked up the bag Harry had dropped, and helped Harry make up the sauce. It had been fun cooking together.

Draco eased out of the chair, with Harry standing up straight beside him. Slinging an arm around Harry's waist, he gave him a quick kiss. "I've been lazy in here all day, and I want to go out."

"Out?" Harry repeated, feeling distracted by Draco's hand slipping underneath his untucked shirt to touch his bare back.

Chuckling, Draco pulled away. "Yes! You know there's a whole world outside?"

Harry rolled his eyes slightly at Draco's teasing. "You want to go out...together?"

Draco stopped, turning around to face Harry, his smile dropping. "You don't?"

Swallowing hard, Harry could feel his stomach clenching with nerves. He needed to fix this. "Um, no, no. I'm just surprised. You aren't worried about the press seeing us anymore?"

"We are both out now, so will it really be that shocking that we are seen together?" Draco looked Harry over critically. "Well, maybe if you are dressed like that," his eyes jokingly disdainful.

Harry glanced down. After leaving Draco's that morning, he had only had enough time to apparate home for a quick shower and to yank on these clothes. The jeans were baggy but comfortable, with a red plaid shirt worn open over a faded black tee.

"Strip," Draco said, already unbuttoning his own shirt.

Harry didn't bother asking questions, just taking his clothes off in record time.

But instead of going to the bed, Draco pulled him to the bathroom. He started the shower and stepped in. Harry followed him, feeling breathless at the sight of a wet, naked Draco tipping his head back under the spray, his eyes closed. He got some body wash and started working it over Draco, admiring every inch of his body.

Draco was washing his hair, slicking the wet, darkened strands off his face when he was done. Harry pushed him against the tiled wall of the shower, his mouth going down to lick and suck the water off his collarbone, as his soapy hand wrapped around Draco's half-hard cock.

But after only a couple strokes, Draco was pulling away with a chuckle. "Time enough for that later tonight. We need to clean you up." He pushed Harry under the water, and he had no choice but to wet his hair.

As he washed it, Draco was working soapy hands everywhere, making it really hard to concentrate. Harry got shampoo in his eye, making Draco chuckle as he swore and rinsed it away. Somehow they finished the shower and were toweling each other off.

Watching Draco style his hair while Harry shaved felt strangely intimate. Would this be what it would be like to live together? Sharing a bathroom? Eating breakfast and reading the paper over coffee in the morning? He had never considered it with anyone else.

"Sheesh, you are hopeless," Draco said, taking the razor out of distracted Harry's hand and finishing the last couple swipes over his skin, his eyes intent on his task. Harry splashed his face with water, and dried off.

Draco grabbed a comb, and grinned at Harry with unrestrained zeal. "Now, I'm going to fix that mop on the top of your head."

...

Harry stood in the mirror, looking over his reflection, trying to get used to how he looked. They had apparated to Harry's once Draco was dressed, and he had dived into Harry's closet right away. Somehow, he found the clothes Harry had bought in the spring but hadn't had the nerve to wear in public yet. The ones that were the most fashionable.

It was a bit jarring seeing himself dressed like this. The dark jeans were tight enough to show off his strong thighs. He wore ankle boots instead of trainers, and the olive green short sleeve shirt was more fitted than he was used to. It brought attention to the muscles of his arms and chest. Harry wasn't bulky with large muscles, but he was pretty fit.

Hands ran over his ass, making Harry jump slightly. Draco chuckled, propping his head on Harry's shoulder to look at the mirror with him. "Your ass looks so good in these jeans, I'm considering making you change into something looser."

"Afraid people will be looking at me instead of you?" Harry teased, completely joking. He looked alright, but Draco looked amazing. He was wearing a smokey grey fitted suit with an ice blue dress shirt, looking like a male model at a top designer fashion show.

Draco's hand slid forward, cupping Harry's cock in his jeans. His pale skin contrasted boldly against the dark fabric, the sexy image burned into Harry's brain. He turned his head to whisper hotly into Harry's ear. "I have my ways of getting attention when I want it."

"Fuck, Draco, let's stay in. Order pizza or something. I want you so much, right now." Harry rocked his ass back against Draco, hoping the movement would help convince him.

Draco only gave him a throaty, sexy chuckle, and gave his cock a squeeze before letting go. "It will be all the better for waiting. Anticipation and all that. Now come on, we will be late for our reservation."

Grabbing Harry's hand, he did a side-along apparation, popping outside an upscale, new restaurant with a flashy chef. It was a place people went to be seen, and paparazzi usually lingered around just to see who would show up.

Harry's hand clenched around Draco's as the cameras flashed around them, taking him back to the days after the war and during the trials when they chased him relentlessly.

Draco seemed to take it in stride, his head held high as he stepped closer to wrap an arm around Harry's waist and urge him into the restaurant. The gesture made it obvious they were together as a couple.

Once the heavy oak doors shut behind them, Harry let out a sigh of relief. This was a place used to catering to the wealthy and famous, and they wouldn't let the press slip inside.

Draco spoke with the maitre d' in low tones, and they were soon whisked to their table, Draco holding Harry's hand. Instead of a quiet corner, they seemed to be at a fairly central location, and Harry felt all too aware of the eyes on them from every side. Draco had been in the news almost daily for the last two months, and it seemed everyone recognized Harry, no matter how he dressed.

Looking back at Draco, he could see underneath his brazen attitude, there was a hint of uncertainty. Reaching across the table, Harry took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

Fuck it if everyone was watching. Fuck it if everyone knew they were together. He had been trying to please everyone else his whole bloody life. It was time he did exactly what he wanted for once. And what he wanted, more than anything, was to have a wonderful night with his gorgeous date. Fuck anybody who wanted to screw that up.

Draco's eyes warmed, and he squeezed his hand back. It was good to see his confidence fully returning, and his head raising to a haughty angle that reminded Harry of Draco in his teen years.

"Two dirty martinis and the oysters to start with, Etienne, _s'il vous plait,"_ Draco ordered smoothly when their server arrived.

Draco had obviously eaten here before, and it must have been since he had returned recently. It would have been too pricey and public for Draco a few months ago. The restaurant had only been open a few years, so not somewhere Draco had been to with his parents.

The thought sent Harry imagining who Draco had been here with previously. One of the men he had dated so openly in the last couple months? Was he still seeing any of them, or dating other men? They had never talked about being exclusive. They hardly talked at all, come to think if it. It had been mostly sex and teasing each other.

As the server returned with their drinks, Harry gazed at Draco speculatively. Why had he wanted to be so public tonight, coming to this place, dressing them up so meticulously? Was this some kind of announcement that they were a couple, or was it simply part of Draco's rebranding? Showing that he was so reformed and part of acceptable society that he was dating the Chosen One? The Savior?

"What has you so quiet, Harry?"

The question jarred him out of his thoughts, and he pushed them away. Plenty of time to think of them later. He should really just be in the moment, enjoying being with Draco.

He raised Draco's hand, giving his fingers a light kiss. "Forgive me, I was thinking about a case and that is inexcusable. I won't let it happen again tonight."

The PDA and words made Draco give him a genuine smile that warmed Harry right to his toes. Fuck, he really liked this man, and he was a fool if he wasted a second he had in his company. Holding up his glass, Harry made a toast. "To you conquering the hearts and minds of everyone with your wonderful store."

Draco clinked his glass lightly with Harry's, looking touched at the gesture. "Do you really like the store?"

"It is seriously more than I ever dreamed a bookstore could be. Everywhere I go, I see people reading and discussing books, mentioning the debates from Stormcloud. It's like they are studying for their NEWTs all over again, diving into deep topics like muggle relations and improving democracy."

His comments seemed to mean a lot to Draco, who was leaning forward and soaking up every word. Surely he had been hearing similar comments from many other people.

The oysters arrived then, and Draco's attention was diverted in teaching Harry how to properly eat them. By the time the plate was cleared of everything except empty shells and parsley, Harry was a bit drunk from a second martini and feeling really good. Draco seemed to be feeling the alcohol too, his smile a little wider and more flirty.

"Fuck, you look so hot right now. The things I'm going to do to you later," Harry said in a rough whisper.

Draco's eyes instantly heated up in response, dropping to Harry's mouth, and then meeting his again.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, their server appeared with a tray with their entrees. Draco turned to him. "Etienne, would you please pack that to go? I'm afraid we need to leave shortly."

The server was too sophisticated to show any reaction, just nodding and rushing away. It seemed to take forever for him to return and for Draco to pay the bill.

Taking Harry's hand, Draco dragged him out of the restaurant, clamping an arm around his waist before opening the door. "Just you wait to see what I'm going to do to you in about ten minutes," he whispered into Harry's ear before leading him outside.

The crowd of paparazzi was easily twice the size that it had been before, and flashes from dozens of cameras left Harry half-blinded and disorientated. Draco didn't seem affected, walking straight through the mob like they weren't there, making them scramble out of the way. The horde circled around them, shouting their names to try to get them to look their way for a better picture.

"Harry Potter!"

"Draco! Malfoy! Malfoy!"

"Are you two an item now?"

"Harry, are you Draco's boyfriend?"

"Is Harry a top or a bottom, Draco?"

The chaos of voices, lights, and people milling everywhere made Harry click into auror mode. He grabbed hold of Draco firmly and stared down the photographers in front of them. "Get the fuck out of our way. Now."

His authoritative tone had the men jumping back, and he marched forward quickly. As soon as they were free of the pack, he did a side-along apparition to Grimmauld Place.

...

Harry could hear his fast breathing when they were in the quiet of the living room, and Draco pulled away to look at Harry closely.

"Are you OK?"

Nodding, Harry closed his eyes and tried to take some calming breaths.

He heard Draco give a soft swear and some quick footfalls across the floor. A minute later, Draco pressed a cold glass into his hand and eased him down on to the sofa. "It's just water, drink it."

He took a few sips, and could feel his tension unwinding. Eventually, he opened his eyes to face Draco, fearing his reaction. "Sorry, I didn't mean to freak out on you like that..."

"Phish, that was nothing. Everyone has stuff like that," Draco said dismissively. He took the glass from Harry and set it on the table. "What I found really hot was when you went all bad cop at the end there. I wouldn't have been surprised if you had punched a few of them to get out of our way."

Harry chuckled along with Draco, and tried to run a hand through his hair, only to find it a bit stiff with product. That made him laugh even harder. He stood up, starting to unbutton his shirt. "Well, I think I better get out of these tight clothes as soon as possible. They might be constricting my breathing too much."

"I can help with that," Draco said, reaching for Harry's waistband from his position in the sofa. His deft fingers were soon easing the fabric open, and his fingers splayed over Harry's hardening cock. He leaned forward, nuzzling into it with his cheek and open lips. He looked up at Harry from that position. "I want you to fuck me tonight."

The words made Harry's cock jerk against Draco's fingers, and he gave some strokes that aroused him more than soothed him. Harry was breathing faster for a whole different reason. "Are you sure?"

Draco nodded, holding Harry's gaze. "I've been fantasizing about it for ages."

Pulling Draco to stand up, Harry apparated them right into his bedroom, and wasted no time in undressing Draco. He had gotten rather good at it in the last week, and they were soon naked on the bed. "Um, I haven't done this that much."

With everything they had done this week, they hadn't done this yet. Harry always pictured Draco fucking him, not the other way around. It was still exciting and he wanted to make it good for Draco.

Draco leaned in, kissing Harry softly at first, pulling him closer with a hand at the nape of his neck. It relaxed Harry, and he sunk into the sensations like he always did with Draco, the world falling away and just completely in the moment with Draco.

Their hands were very familiar with each other's bodies, touching and stroking over heated skin, pulling out moans as things intensified. Harry shifted down the bed, tracing along Draco's legs until he opened them. He kissed his way up his inner thighs, knowing he was very sensitive there.

As he took Draco in his mouth, he lubed his fingers and started playing with his ass. Holding back earlier made Draco eager for it, encouraging Harry to go faster. Within a few minutes, he was ready and pulling Harry over him. Looking into each other's eyes, Harry slowly eased in, marveling at how tight and hot it was, filled with the shocking knowledge that he was fucking Draco Malfoy.

Draco's hands were on his ass, pulling him in all the way, and then closing his eyes as he seemed to adjust. Harry waited until he opened his eyes and gave a small nod. Trying to hold back his own orgasm, Harry started moving, paying close attention to Draco the whole time.

Within a few strokes, Draco was arching off the bed. "Faster. Really fuck me, Potter."

Harry sped up little by little, Draco moans and grabbing hands showing that he was loving it, encouraging him to go harder and deeper. He was soon almost out of control, right on the edge, pounding into Draco.

Draco was bent in half, stroking his own cock, arching to meet every thrust. It was sweaty, loud and glorious, completely dirty and greedy. Harry peaked with a harsh groan, sending shudders through Draco as he lost it seconds later.

Collapsed in a sweaty tangle of limbs, Harry tried to catch his breath as he shifted off of Draco. He laid there, the damp face against Draco's shoulder, just feeling a connection like he'd never felt with anyone before.

Draco rolled on to his side, facing Harry, who had tucked a pillow under his head. Leaning forward, he kissed Harry, a soft kiss that seemed to lead to many more. Unrushed and perfect. Harry never wanted them to stop.

His stomach grumbled loudly, making them both pull back with a laugh.

"I was trying to have a moment here!" Draco chuckled, his eyes crinkled up.

Harry knew he was flushing in embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, Draco. We didn't eat much at supper and I don't remember if I ate lunch or not."

"How about some prosciutto-wrapped monkfish and polenta?" Draco smirked, pulling Harry out of the bed. They did quick cleaning spells and then raced each other down to the kitchen. Draco had put their meal in the refrigerator when he got Harry the glass of water earlier.

They were too hungry to bother heating it up, just eating it with their fingers, feeding each other, leaning naked against the counter. Harry was very glad that Kreacher had retired to a cottage in Wales a few years ago, and that they had the house to themselves now. There was even a dessert that had baked apples and sticky caramel sauce that tasted even better licked off Draco's fingers.

Eventually, they made it into a hot bath, cleaning each other up and Harry rinsing all the product out of his hair.

When they were falling asleep afterwards, Harry completely forgot about his vow to move to a separate bed from Draco. It was simply too natural to relax with the other man snuggled against his side.

...

-A/N: Thanks for sticking with this story. 


	20. Chapter 20

A tapping on the window made Harry wake up, and he looked towards the noise with bleary eyes. It was an owl.

Stumbling out of bed, Harry let the bird in and accepted his letter, paying him quickly to get him to leave to close the window again. It was letting in cold air, and he hadn’t bothered pulling a robe on. 

He dived back under the covers, snuggling against a very warm Draco, who murmured in protest at his cool skin. His heart sunk when he saw it was from Matilda Dankworth, his boss. _Fuck._

Rubbing his hands through his unusually messy hair, he glanced at the clock on the wall. It was already half-ten and he should have been at work at nine. Why hadn’t his alarm charm gone off?

Sighing, he opened the letter. A newspaper clipping fell on to his lap. “Mr. Potter, were you planning to come to work today? Please stop by my office when you deign to arrive. M.Dankworth.”

The newspaper clipping was a picture of Draco and himself, glued to each other’s sides, looking slightly drunk as they left the restaurant. The caption below said, ‘Ooh la la! Gay lovebirds Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy leave shortly after arriving at French restaurant _‘Un Baiser’_ last night. They would not comment in the nature of their relationship, but they look rather intimate, _oui?_ ’

Draco was sitting up, yawning, and shifted to recline against the headboard. “What’s going on?”

“I’m incredibly late for work and my boss just sent me a letter with a picture of us,” Harry passed the clipping over and buried his hands in his hair. “Fuck. There is no way I can say I was sick or some other excuse. She knows I was out late with you.”

Draco tossed the clipping on the floor. “Oh, fuck ‘em. You have gone over and beyond your role for years. Can’t she cut you a little slack and give you a personal day?”

“People are depending on me,” Harry rolled his eyes as Draco kissed his shoulder, and ran a hand down his chest. 

Draco gave him a naughty smile. “They can call somebody else in to cover your shift. But what would I do if you weren’t here?” His hand slipped lower, stroking over Harry's growing erection. 

“Draco...,” he tried for a warning growl, but it came out as more of a needy whine.

Kissing up Harry’s neck, Draco stopped near his ear, a place Harry loved being kissed. “I really want to fuck you, Harry.”

The rough whisper made Harry groan, turning to kiss Draco hard. It was the thing he had fantasized the most about, for months and months. Draco was right, they could get someone else to cover his work. There was no way he was leaving this bed now.

He was nervous but incredibly turned on, rocking against Draco’s hand and tilting his head up so Draco could kiss down his neck. 

“Mmmm you are so hot for this, aren’t you?” Draco chuckled, moving his hand downwards. He prepped Harry thoroughly, but then rolled on to his back. “I want to watch you.”

That was another fantasy of Harry’s, and he crawled over Draco, slowly lowering himself until they were fully connected. He leaned down, kissing Draco, getting used to the feeling. It was wonderful, but almost too intense. Too much. 

Draco closed his eyes with a groan, rubbing his hands up and down Harry's back. “So good, baby. Fuck, you feel incredible.”

The rough-edged words got Harry moving, raising and lowering himself, looking down at Draco the whole time. He found certain movements felt really good, and he closed his eyes, rotating his hips to repeat them, groaning.

Draco was into it just as much, arching up to meet Harry’s motions, his hands on his hips clenching so tight there would probably be bruises later. 

Harry loved it, but found he needed more. He changed position, getting on his hands and knees. Draco followed him, pushing right into him, hard and deep. Lowering his head down to the bed, Harry rocked back with every hard thrust, begging for more. 

He was right on the edge, and could tell Draco was too. Reaching for his own cock, he stroked fast, keening against the pillow. It was just what he needed, and Draco shoved deep as he groaned loudly. 

Rolling on to his back, Harry felt achy and well-used. Fucked out. Completely relaxed and wonderfully sore. Sex with Draco was always a completely consuming, all-in thing. Intense and fantastic. 

He fell asleep, Draco spooning him from behind, kissing the nape of his neck. The crumpled letter from Dankworth slipped to the floor.

...

 _Fuck._

Harry rested his forehead against the door jamb with a sigh, and then raised his hand to give a sharp knock.

“Enter,” an authoritative female voice inside called out. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry walked into the large office, and sat on one of the red leather chairs facing the huge mahogany desk. It was covered with ornate carvings and stained almost black. 

Matilda Dankworth sat behind it, an older woman with short salt and pepper hair and wise, dark eyes. They were on Harry now, quietly assessing him, and he knew her experienced gaze was probably deducing everything. 

She stood up and walked around her desk to lean against it near Harry. Her white dress shirt was paired with dark pinstripe trousers, giving her a tailored, business air. “Harry, I have known you many years, and I am shocked by the erratic behavior you are exhibiting lately.”

Her voice was calm and concerned, not the angry tirade he had been half-expecting. She tilted her head slightly to the side, still watching him closely.

“Skipping a shift yesterday, often coming in sleep-deprived, and not going to your therapy appointments. Harry, I'm seeing a worsening trend in your behaviour. How focussed are you on the job?”

Harry knew what she was saying was true, but the words still sent a flare of anger through him. He had hardly had a life outside of work for years, and she was treating him like this now? Didn’t he deserve a break?

“You know I do the job better than half of your force, even when I'm tired,” Harry said, trying to keep his voice neutral. Keep it together.

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest at his retaliation. “You are excellent at your job, but I can’t be seen as playing favorites. I have to hold you up to the same standards as everyone else.”

Harry stood up, unable to sit still any longer. “You want me to act like an auror fresh out of school, toeing the line?” 

It came out harsher in tone than he intended, and he could see Dankworth’s eyes flash in response. “I think you need some time away, Potter. Perhaps I will allow you come back when you are ready to do the job properly.” 

Harry couldn’t believe what she had just said. “Are you suspending me?” Outrage was making him stand straighter, looming over her.

Dankworth calmly got off the desk, glaring challengingly right back at Harry. “Yes. Effective immediately. Leave now.”

She spun to march behind her desk, pulling out a piece of parchment and her quill once she sat down. No doubt to notify security about his change in status. 

Harry knew he was too angry to argue with her, and beneath her cool demeanor, she was irked by the way he had talked back. There was no point continuing this now, when they were both so stirred up. Harry left the office, closing the door a little harder than he should have.

...

“Suspended? You?” Ron was looking at Harry in shock.

Hermione took a big gulp of her beer, and stared at Harry too. “I know things were getting bad, but I didn’t think they were _that_ bad.”

Harry had already drained his glass and waved to the server for another round. He scoffed. “It was nothing! I missed one bloody shift!”

Ron shared a glance with Hermione, before putting a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Plus coming in exhausted, and being more moody. Half the aurors are afraid to talk to you, since you’ve been snapping at them so often.”

“Dankworth is a woman in charge of Magical Law Enforcement, and she can’t be seen as weak. If she doesn’t nip your bad behavior in the bud, other aurors may start to challenge her authority in other ways,” Hermione said as the server unloaded the full glasses on to their table. “Why did you order another round? Ron and I have to go back to work soon.”

Harry grabbed a glass and chugged down half of it. He thumped it down on the table, and glared at both of them. “Maybe I thought my closest friends would be here to support me when I am going through a big pile of crap?”

“You know it’s not like that, mate,” Ron said quickly, looking guilty.

Harry shrugged Ron’s hand off his shoulder, and shifted further away. “Fine. Go. I’ll drink them all myself.”

“Not sharing? Pity, I was feeling a bit thirsty,” Draco appeared beside the table, smirking at Harry in a way he had grown to rather like. 

It didn’t have the same effect on Ron and Hermione, who stiffened up as Draco sat down beside Harry. It was even worse when he leaned in to give him a long kiss hello.

Draco gave them an unrepentant look as he sat back and sipped a beer, clearly challenging them to comment.

“We’ll get going, Harry, since you have Draco here to take care of you now,” Hermione said with a slightly sarcastic tone, urging Ron out of the booth. She threw down some money. “Send me an owl when you’ve calmed down enough to talk rationally about this.”

Draco gazed at their retreating backs. “That wasn’t much of a reunion. They hardly even said a word to me.”

Harry could tell Draco couldn’t care less, and it matched his own mood quite well. “Fuck ‘em. Let’s order some firewhiskey. It will get me drunk faster.”

Five drinks later, Harry didn’t have many worries. “It’s actually a good thing...I need more time to work on my charity. Clem’s always bugging me ‘bout it.”

Draco clinked his tumbler against Harry’s, and took another sip. “Exactly! When I let you out of my bed.”

Harry gave him a bleary grin. “You are a bad, bad influence, Draco Malfoy. And that’s exactly what I need. I’ve been such a fucking goodie-goodie for so many fucking years. And what do I have to show for it?”

Draco held up his glass. “To bad influences.”

Harry clinked glasses, and downed the whiskey, leaning into Draco. “To gorgeous bad influences...” He stared at Draco’s lips, and went for another long kiss.

Kissing him back with a pleased hum, Draco didn’t seem to care that they were in a public place. Didn’t even raise any objections when Harry crawled over him, straddling his lap and kissing him properly. 

A throat clearly loudly by their table made Harry lift his head from Draco’s neck. Already, a pleasing red patch was developing there. “What...”

The pub’s owner stood there, arms crossed over his muscular chest. “Your behavior is inappropriate. Please leave.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, man?” Draco groaned, dropping his hands from Harry’s back.

Harry crawled out of the booth, wobbling a little, and glared up at the man. “We aren’t doing anything I haven’t seen dozens of straight couples do in public.”

Draco followed him, slinging an arm over Harry’s shoulders. “Don’t bother. Close-minded fucktards like him aren’t worth it. I know ten better places than this shithole.”

He spent the rest of the night showing Harry precisely that, drinking and dancing and doing anything to make Harry forget what a crappy day it had been. They crashed back at Draco’s flat in the wee hours of the morning, too drunk and tired to even have sex.

...

Harry woke up alone, sprawled across Draco’s bed, the sheets twisted around him uncomfortably. By the time he had freed himself, and stumbled to the bathroom, he realized how awful he felt. 

Taking a hangover potion he found in the cabinet above the sink, Harry started a hot bath and went to the kitchen area to pour a huge glass of water. He guzzled it down and refilled it before carrying it back to the bathroom. 

Sinking into the hot bath, he relaxed until he was lying on the bottom, holding his breath and just listening to his heartbeat. It was quiet after the chaos of yesterday. He rose, slicking his wet hair back, and let the hot water relax his sore muscles as he sipped the water. 

Half an hour later, he felt almost human again, as he toweled his hair dry and shaved. He made tea and toast, not sure how much his stomach could handle, and curled up on a squashy chair overlooking Diagon Alley. 

All the busy people, bustling everywhere, such important things to do. He felt strangely detached from it all. Should he be more stressed about being suspended? Harry from a year ago would have been camped at Dankworth’s door, begging for another chance. Now, he just felt kind of numb. 

Idly, he shifted through a pile of books on a side table. Even though Draco had a bookstore, his flat was stuffed full of them. It reminded Harry of the books from the cottage that he still had Grimmauld Place. He really should give them back to Draco, but where would he even put them? 

Harry’s eyes scanned around the flat. It was really just one big room, with a bathroom at one end. A wall near the bed was completely built-in closets, packed full of clothes. There was a simple kitchenette along another wall, with a cafe table for two nearby. The bed was large and comfortable, with a cushioned headboard and many pillows. Every other bit of wall space was covered in tall bookshelves. 

It was very Draco, the Draco Harry had come to know this year. It was a private sanctuary, not a space to entertain guests, and Harry felt honored to have such access to it. Everything here was comfortable and attractive, without trying to impress. Hardwood floors scattered with plush rugs, large windows that had nice views and let in lots of light, and furniture in a jumble of colours that seemed to work together somehow. 

A book caught his eye, and Harry flipped through it. It was a coffee table book full of beautiful pictures, featuring highlights from around the world. A souk in Egypt, full of exotic goods. A waterfall in the tropics, with children splashing around in the pool below. A winter carnival with people bundled up in hats and scarves, pouring maple syrup on the snow. 

A pale hand reached over his shoulder and yanked the book away. 

“Hey!” Harry protested with a chuckle, reaching up towards the book. “Give that back.” 

Draco set the book down on the floor out of reach. “You can look at it later. I’m here now.” 

He sprawled across Harry’s lap, leaning in for a good, hard kiss. When he pulled back, his blue-grey eyes were practically dancing with excitement. “Did you see the papers today?” 

“Nah, I’ve only been up an hour or so,” Harry grinned back, liking seeing Draco this cheerful. He looked handsome, wearing dark skinny jeans and a light green jumper. 

Draco was holding some newspapers in his free hand, and he spread them out over his thighs so Harry could see them. Harry’s smile dipped as he read the headlines. 

**Potter Potted! Behaving Badly With Boyfriend!**

**Malfoy’s New Boy Toy!**

**When Good Boys Go Bad! Very, Very Bad!**

Harry groaned, and pushed them so they slid to the floor. “Those are awful! What did we do last night to get in the paper so much?” 

Draco shrugged, not seeming bothered at all. “Just a fun night. There’s was quite of few photographers outside by the time we got thrown out of the third place.” 

Closing his eyes tight, Harry tried to remember. “Oh shit, wasn’t that the place with the dance floor?” 

“Right! You were dancing pretty energetically, and must have gotten overheated or something. The bouncer thought you took too many clothes off.” 

That explained the blurry picture of Draco wrapping a long coat around Harry, who was only wearing black boxer briefs and one sock. 

Harry groaned and pressed his hands over his eyes. “Fuck. I’m never drinking that much again.” He was too old for this type of shit. 

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch, Harry. We drank and had a fun night. Big fucking deal. Everyone will forget about it by tomorrow.” 

“Easy for you to say, since you are branding yourself as some anarchist bookseller, rousing the rabble as often as possible,” Harry grumbled, shifting so Draco let him get up. “I’m an auror trying to launch a charity aimed at kids.” 

“A suspended auror,” Draco corrected, with a smirk. “Look, no matter what your job is, you deserve to have fun too. And there’s no fucking way I’m going to worry about reporters ever again. I didn’t come back here to let them control my actions.”

Harry could see the stubborn tilt to Draco’s chin, and knew he was referring to the way they been in the spring. So worried about being out, and people seeing them together. It had broken them up before, and there was no way he’d let that happen again. “Fine. We will do whatever we want.”

His answer pleased Draco, who basically launched himself at Harry, tackling him on to the soft bed. “That’s the right answer. Now as a reward, you get me.”

“Best fucking prize ever,” Harry gasped, as Draco unzipped his pants and worked his hand into his underwear. 

...

-A/N: Thanks for all the comments & kudos. I love getting all that feedback. :D 


	21. Chapter 21

Hermione pushed a bowl of chili in front of Harry, and dug into her own. “Aren’t you going to go back to talk to Dankworth soon?”

Harry shook his head as he took a bite of the spicy food. “Frankly, it’s nice to have some time to myself.”

Ron scoffed. “Time with Draco, you mean.”

Glaring at his old friend, Harry felt immediately irritated. “Look, I came over here to see you, not to have my relationship criticized.”

“Relationship,” Ron rolled his eyes. “You are more his boy toy, his pet, than his boyfriend. Can’t you see that he’s just using you?”

Harry was really mad now. “Just because we are going out a lot and having fun? Not afraid to be seen at gay bars? I know it’s not your idea of a good time, but didn’t you say that I should act like a guy in his twenties?”

The past few weeks had been a blur. Draco loved going out, dressing up to the nines and socializing. It felt like they went out most nights, drinking, dancing and trying to talk to people in clubs over the loud music. Draco was still being treated like some kind of rock star, with everyone wanting to hang out with him. They crashed back at Draco’s usually, having sex that practically melted Harry’s brain after flirting and dirty dancing half the night. 

Mornings meant more sex before Draco jumped into the shower and went to work. Harry had a few hours of sleep. Then everything started again. Suppers at high profile restaurants, dropping by the Stormcloud cafe to check on the events, and then out to more nightclubs. More drinks, dancing, partying. Paparazzi seemed to love getting pictures of them, and Harry often sighed at the images the next day, but Draco just found them amusing. 

“But your hair doesn’t move! It’s more like some kind of head sculpture than hair these days,” Ron reached out a hand towards it, and Harry shifted away. 

Experimenting with Draco’s hair products, Harry now had perfected a version of a pompadour that tamed his hair. It even held up to their long nights out.

Hermione put a hand on his arm. “You look good, Harry. It’s just that it doesn’t seem really ‘you’.” Her eyes were tracing over the way his hair swooped over the top of his head, adding a couple inches to his height. 

The compliment mollified him slightly, and he shrugged. “It’s kind of a gay culture thing. They really care about hair and fashion at the clubs Draco likes going to, and I don’t want to be an embarrassment to him.” 

Plus, he found when he made an effort with his clothes or hair, Draco seemed pleased and it meant teasing and flirting more all night, leading to truly spectacular sex. Not that he would tell his friends about that.

“So, all this high profile stuff...is that just for now with Draco establishing his business, or is it all that he’s really into?” Ron asked.

The question made Harry pause for a moment, considering it. Was all this going out something Draco really enjoyed, or was he just working the press for promotion? “Um, I don’t, um...I guess we haven’t really discussed it.”

Come to think of it, he couldn’t think of the last time they had really talked. Things seemed so rushed. Whenever they were out, they were constantly with other people and rarely seemed to have a moment on their own. By the time they got back to Draco’s, they were talked out and sought refuge in sex, just losing themselves in each other. It was intimate and intense, but so different than how it had been with Draco in the spring. 

Hermione and Ron seemed to be holding back from asking him more, but he could see them giving him concerned looks again. He stiffened in defense, as Hermione got up her nerve.

“I just want you to be happy, Harry. Remember what your therapist told you in the summer. You need to have a healthy relationship to avoid getting really hurt again, and-“

Harry shot up out of his chair so fast it fell backwards, startling Hermione into stopping her spiel. “Yeah, yeah. Draco is bad for me, blah, blah, blah. Well, I don’t fucking care if everyone else approves of us being together. Maybe we just aren’t meant to last forever and that’s OK. I’m happy now.”

Hermione and Ron stood up, trying to calm him down, but Harry just shook his head, backing towards the fireplace. He chucked in some floo powder and was soon home. 

The house seemed dark and dead quiet, and that’s the last thing Harry wanted. He would just sit and brood if he stayed here. He apparated to Diagon Alley. 

The bookstore was closed but the Stormcloud was packed full, with journalists camped outside. Harry strode through them, making them all jump up and the flashes of their cameras lighting up the night. They shouted out his name and loudly called out questions. 

Millicent Bulstrode was blocking the doorway, her heavy jaw clenched tight. “Event is sold out. Fuck off,” she growled at Harry. 

“I’m here to see Draco. I could care less about the debate,” Harry tried to move past her to the door, but she was too large. 

The press loved this, taking even more pictures. Harry considered taking out his wand to get her out of the way. She was larger than him, but he dealt with worse as an auror. Strong magical skills beat brawn any day of the week. 

Everyone just froze when the cafe door opened and Draco stood there, glaring down at them. He waved Millicent a couple steps away and grabbed Harry’s sleeve, yanking him to his side. “Harry Potter is always allowed in,” he told the bouncer in a firm tone, before stepping back into the cafe. The press had caught it all.

“Bet you loved that, didn’t ya, Potter,” Draco said to him softly, pulling him into an alcove away from the crowd. “Famous Harry Potter, can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page.”

“It’s a cafe, not a bookshop.” Harry grinned at him widely, recognizing the words from their Hogwarts days. “Wasn’t that from Lockhart’s book signing? Didn’t your father get into a fight with Ron’s dad at that event?”

“Weasley attacked him,” Draco argued back, looking amused.

“After being provoked,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Maybe Malfoys should stay out of bookstores. You practically attacked me a few weeks ago, first time I stepped into Tempest Books.”

“After being provoked,” Draco said silkily, stepping closer. “And you didn’t seem to mind,” he whispered, lowered his face down to kiss Harry firmly. 

Harry sank into the kiss, just needing to be close to this man after all the bad emotions Hermione and Ron had stirred up. “How did I provoke you?”

Draco’s eyes were already darker, and Harry liked seeing the effect he had on him. “You made the first move, coming into my store, right into my space.”

“So, you have the right to jump on any customer who unwittingly walks into your business?”

Pushing Harry against the wall, Draco crowded against him. “No, just you,” he said before capturing Harry’s lips again with his own. 

As always, Harry was already kissing him back just as hard, pushing to get closer, just needing him as much now as he had back at the brothel. It had never been like this before with anyone else. “Let’s go to the flat.”

Draco chuckled, a very sexy sound that made things tighten low in Harry’s body. “Not until the debate is over. I need to thank the guests.”

Harry listened to the buzz of talking, and it sounded like the combatants were in the thick of it. Nowhere near their closing remarks. He groaned in frustration. 

Looking around, Harry tugged Draco further into the darkened alcove, and sank down to his knees. His hands were busy on the fastenings of Draco’s trousers in a flash. 

“Harry, no...” Draco’s hands were pushing his away, and urging Harry to stand back up. 

Harry was too aroused to give up that easily. He nuzzled into the front of Draco trousers, feeling his erection through the fabric, and looking up at him. He licked his lips slowly, and then raised his hands back to the fastenings. 

Draco’s breath caught as Harry eased his zipper down, and glanced around quickly as Harry pulled his cock out. He didn’t object again, his hand grabbing hold of his shoulder encouragingly. 

Knowing this had to be quick, Harry took Draco deep right away, loving the way he filled his mouth so well. He got even harder as Harry sucked and licked, his breath coming in soft pants that turned him on even more. 

He knew Draco was getting close, planting his feet and his hand cupping the back of Harry’s neck. Guiding him to the best pace, thrusting his hips. Harry had gotten really good at this, opening wide to take him deep, loving how much Draco got off on it. He almost choked when Draco came, easing back to take the rest. 

Draco pulled back, his breath fast and his fingers fumbling as he did up his trousers. “Fuck, Harry, you’re getting to be just as bad as I am.”

Harry just smirked as he stood up, and kissed Draco hard, pressing his throbbing erection against his hip. “I’m going to the flat now to strip and prep myself. As soon as you are done here, come back and fuck me.”

Heat sparked again in Draco’s eyes at the idea of Harry ready and waiting for him. He loved it when Harry was horny and a bit desperate, usually teasing him until he was begging. “Be there soon.”

...

Harry crept along the edge of the cafe, the crowd too involved in the debate to even notice him. It seemed to be about Azkaban prison, with one of the speakers arguing for capital punishment for murderers.

He found the door marked ‘Private’ at the back of the cafe and slipped through the wards easily. It connected to the backroom of the bookshop, and Harry quickly went through that empty space to Draco’s flat. 

Wanting to make things special, Harry transfigured rolls of bread into candles, and placed them around the room. He lit them with a flick of his wand, and felt pleased with the soft glow they gave the flat. He also set out a bottle of chilled white wine and a couple glasses.

In the bathroom, he splashed water on his face, brushed his teeth and made sure his hair still looked good. He added more pomade to an unruly section, grimacing slightly at the waxy, greasy texture, and washing his hands thoroughly. 

Back near the bed, he pulled the sheets back and stripped, anticipation really building. Setting his clothes over a chair, he stretched out on the sheets and ran his hands over his body, imaging it was Draco’s touch. Sex had never been so good with anyone else. He used Draco’s high end lube to prep himself, knowing it lasted better than the conjured stuff. 

He was still hard, and tempted to stroke himself, but held back. He moved the pillows into a good position, and reclined against them. Imaging Draco coming through the door, stripping fast, jumping right into Harry’s arms. Fucking within seconds, being so well filled up by that gorgeous cock. 

Harry rolled over, rocking his erection against the bedsheets. What if Draco came in right now, caught him doing this? Would he punish Harry for not waiting?

The thought was too arousing, and Harry flipped back over, trying to calm down. Draco hadn’t displayed many dom actions since they had been together, except being a little rough at times. Pushing Harry to his limits. He knew Harry loved it. But there hadn’t been any bondage or toys. Harry missed them, but knew Draco had left that life behind and he didn’t want to trigger any bad memories. For Draco, being a dom had just been a job, not a natural inclination. 

Harry had been lost in his thoughs for a while, and he looked at the clock. The debate should have been over at least twenty minutes by now. Even Draco thanking the guests privately shouldn’t take more than ten minutes. Why wasn’t he here yet?

Another ten minutes passed, and Harry started to feel bad. Where could Draco be? Stuck talking to someone he couldn’t get away from? Fighting with someone in the audience or the press? Involved in some bad situation?

Echos of what Hermione and Ron said earlier started circling his brain. Ron calling him Draco’s boy toy, his pet. Questioning how Harry looked now and if Draco was always going to court the press for his business. 

True, Draco seemed to like shoving their relationship in the faces of the press. It was almost like a backlash, a ‘fuck you’ for making them afraid to be out before this. At first, Harry had liked it, finding it flattering that Draco was so willing to be seen together. Some sort of validation. But Ron’s comment made him question it. Was Draco actually just using him for self promotion? Was he as bad as Gilderoy Lockheart? Grabbing ahold of Harry to boost himself up?

Harry gave a frustrated growl as he got out of the bed and blew out all the candles. He pulled his clothes back on, and apparated right into the Stormcloud. It was completely empty, the lights out and the floors even swept. The event had been over for a while. 

Draco had left, obviously. Gone off somewhere with who knows what person, more interested in them than a naked and eager Harry waiting in his bed. 

Harry was glad it was dark and deserted then, a sob ripping through him as he apparated right to his own bedroom at Grimmauld Place. He tore off his clothes, and jumped into the hottest shower he could stand, crying as he scrubbed the product out of his hair and used a rough loofah to try to scrub Draco’s touch from his skin. He was such a fool.

He crawled into his bed, pulling the covers over his head, just wanting darkness and the world shut far, far away. He must have been emotionally exhausted, because he fell asleep not long after that.

...

The bed dipped and a familiar warmth curled around him. Harry half woke up, automatically pushing back against the man in his bed out of pure habit. 

Warm lips nipped at the nape of his neck. “I thought you were going to wait for me in my bed, naughty boy.”

The words floated through Harry’s sleepy mind, and he woke up with a jerk. He twisted around on the bed, glaring down at Draco. “Where have you been all this time?”

It was still dark out, but likely around 2 or 3 am. Harry had been asleep at least two hours. 

Draco chuckled, clearly very drunk. “You sound like an old fishwife. Shut up and kiss me.”

Harry rolled his eyes at that. “No. Get the fuck out of my bed. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Baby, don’t be like that,” Draco purred cajolingly. It had finally sunk into his drunk brain that Harry was mad at him. “I’m sorry I fucked up. Let me make it up to you.”

He pulled Harry down to the bed and crawled over him, his actions quicker than Harry had expected. His breath caught at the sight of Draco rumpled and a bit sweaty, his eyes bright with alcohol, looming over him. 

Draco saw Harry’s involuntary reaction and gave a small smirk. “Grab hold of the headboard with both hands, and don’t let go.”

He said it in a firm tone, and Harry was instantly thinking of that brothel bedroom, and how hard he had lusted for Draco back then. It clicked into something deeper inside him, his submissive side, making him instantly aroused as he stretched his hands up to grasp the headboard as he had been ordered. Pushing aside his anger just to savour Draco being more dominant. 

“Good boy,” his dom purred, and Harry felt a glow of pleasure at pleasing him. His hands slid firmly down his body, pulling his bent legs up to his chest and spreading them wide. “All night, I was thinking of you prepped and waiting for me.”

His fingers pushed into Harry’s ass, and he wasn’t as loose anymore. The stretch burned a little, but his sub side loved the slight pain. The expensive lube was still there, since Harry hadn’t washed it away during his earlier shower. 

Draco moaned, shifting closer. He was naked and hard, pushing right into Harry all the way. “Mmmm so fucking tight...”

Faster than he usually did, Draco was moving, not giving Harry as much time to adjust. He was rough, grabbing hold of the headboard, pounding into Harry. 

Harry sunk even deeper into subspace, raising his hips to take each thrust, wanting his dom’s pleasure before his own. He was hard despite the rough treatment, but unable to touch himself while clutching the headboard. 

Draco soon came, pushing deep to fill Harry up. He flopped to the side, panting, and pulled the sheet over his cooling body. 

Still breathless, his cock aching, Harry clutched the rungs of the headboard. Should he let go and take care of himself? He cringed at the thought of disobeying a direct order. Had Draco fallen asleep?

Draco seemed to rouse himself, rolling on to his side and tucking a pillow under his head. He ran a finger down Harry’s stomach, smiling at the way his muscles contracted in response. “Let go of the headboard and take care of yourself. Give me a show like you did the first time.”

Harry was confused for a second and then realized Draco meant their last session at the brothel. Letting go, he lowered his hands to his chest, and knowing Draco was watching, let them move downwards. It didn’t take much, a few strokes, before he was releasing all his pent up arousal. 

“Good boy,” Draco murmured, cleaning him up with a wand, and curling up with him under the covers. 

Harry felt exhausted, sleepily cuddling with his dom. 

...

Harry woke, feeling disorientated at first. He had been sleeping at Draco’s so much, it felt odd to be back in his own bed. Even odder to have Draco here with him, still sleeping. 

Memories of the previous night came back to him, and they were almost hard to believe. Had Draco really forgotten about him, and then come here in the middle of the night for a fuck? And Harry went along with it? He felt a wave of shame and disgust, making his empty stomach roll. 

He quickly rolled out of the bed, gathering up his clothes and escaping to the bathroom. He cleaned up and dressed, his hair a mess from being slept on wet, but he didn’t really care. 

When he came out, Draco was awake, reclining against the pillows and looking far too good. “Why did you get dressed? Come back to bed.”

Mornings were some of their best times, slow morning sex with plenty of lingering kisses. Harry could feel his resolve weakening but shook his head. His emotions were a mess, his feelings about the previous night warring with the instant pull he felt towards Draco. He just needed to be alone to figure it all out. “No, you have to go. I’ve got stuff to work on.”

Draco scoffed. “Since when? You are suspended.”

“My charity. The big launch is in a couple weeks and my assistant has been bugging me for ages to work on it.” Harry said quickly, grabbing Draco’s clothes from the floor and shoving them at him. 

Moving slowly, Draco sat on the edge of the bed to pull his clothes on. For being so drunk last night, he looked surprisingly good today. 

Harry spun away before he did more stupid things. He went down the stairs and felt relieved when he heard Draco following him. 

At the second floor, he could hear Clementine moving around and felt even better. A convenient excuse to push Draco to leave. He stepped into her office. “Morning. I’m just going to grab some coffee and I’ll be right back to help you with the final prep.” He tried for a normal, cheerful tone, but it came out a bit strained.

Clementine looked up in surprise, her eyes narrowing at his messy hair. “Oh good. It’s getting down to the wire now.”

He nodded, backed up, but Draco was there, trying to peer past Harry. “Wow, a really office and assistant just like you said. I didn’t know you had so much going on.”

The comment just showed how little real talking they had done in the past weeks together. Harry nodded. “Look, we can talk later. Can you just go now?”. He would get through this morning and break down afterwards. On his own.

Draco must have caught something in his tone, as he stopped moving. “Why haven’t you told me about this if it’s such a big thing?”

Harry rolled his eyes, feeling on the edge. “You were too involved in your store and putting on a show for the press. You didn’t need to know about this.”

Perhaps Harry had picked the wrong words, as something made Draco’s eyes flare up. “You don’t want your precious project sullied by having me involved?”

Harry’s brows lowered in confusion. “Oh Merlin, would you just fucking forget about it and go? I’m sure your adoring fans are waiting for you at the store.”

The comment made Draco straighten up, really looking pissed off, and he pushed past Harry to walk up to Clementine. “What is this event you are planning?”

Clementine looked over Draco, noticing he looked rumpled too, and back at Harry, awaiting his reaction.

He waved a dismissive hand. What did it matter? He just felt numb now. “Fine. Tell him.”

“It’s the launch of Harry’s charity in two weeks. Just calling in favors from all the people he’s helped over the years.”

Draco was quiet, his eyes flicking to a calendar on the wall. “So, it’s some big gala charity dinner, with speeches and dancing to a live band. All the rich folks dressed up and trying to outdo each other’s donations?”

“Pretty much.” 

Draco whirled around to face Harry, his eyes furious. “Where is my invitation to this fabulous event? Owl get lost delivering it?”

Harry hadn’t been expecting that. He fumbled, his tired, emotional brain not keeping up with this turn of events. “Why would I invite you to this? You have always mocked my charity stuff.”

Draco looked even more shocked. “My boyfriend launches a charity and doesn’t even want me at his side? Supporting him?”

“Boyfriends? Is that what we are?” Harry glared back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clementine easing out of the office, carrying her purse and coat. Escaping.

Draco didn’t notice, looking like he wanted to shake Harry until his head fell off. His face was flushed in anger, his eyes flashing. “We’ve been everywhere together! Everyone knows we are a couple.”

“Except last night, when you conveniently forgot about me to go off drinking.” Harry was glad Clementine was gone, not hearing this

“Burton Salizar showed up at the Stormcloud, and Michael convinced me to just go for one drink with them,” Draco said quickly, referring to the Ravenclaw who ran the Stormcloud events. 

“It was more than one drink,” Harry said cooly, turning to look out the window. Not mollified at all by the explanation. 

Draco huffed. “You have been with me at enough of these things. You know how hard it can be to get away graciously. I got back to you as soon as I could.”

“Bullshit!” Harry said hotly, blinking tears back hard since the last thing he wanted was to appear weak. “You got drunk and felt horny, and then remembered me. How flattering it was to be woken up to be your booty call.”

“You liked it, admit it.” Draco said, his eyes narrowing.

The comment hit him like a punch to the gut. Harry turned away, the fight drained right out of him. “Then why do I feel so dirty today?”

Draco glared at him for a full minute, his lips pressed into a tight line, and then brushed past Harry, slamming the office door behind him. 

...

-A/N: Yeah, Harry is a big mess right now... 


	22. Chapter 22

It was dark when the door opened hours later. Harry peered up from his place on the sofa, huddled under the blanket. He had broken down when Draco left, and ended up curling up into a ball on the sofa. How had something so good turned so bitter, so sour?

Clementine tsked, and flicked her wand at the fireplace, starting a large fire. She set a tray down on the coffee table. “Tea, chocolate ice cream, or firewhiskey. Pick your poison.”

When Harry didn’t react, she poured two large whiskies and shoved a glass into his hand. “Fucking men, eh? It’s enough to make you switch teams, isn’t it?”

Her light tone was refreshing, a good contrast to the concerned ones he was so tired of. Harry chugged his whiskey and poured another. “You having men problems too?”

Clementine shot back her whiskey in solidarity. “Yup. Seamus started out great... but then he was so clingy! He was always around, dropping everything to be with me. Such a turn off.”

“Yeah, you need a guy who stands up for himself, not a push-over,” Harry sipped his whiskey, enjoying the distraction from his own troubles.

“And then Neville...nice, smart, sweet, but lacking confidence in himself...” Clementine sighed, drawing her knees up to her chest, and wrapping an arm around them. “He would dress up so much for our dates, taking me to fancy places, but seemed totally out of his element.”

Harry could picture that, Neville nervous and trying hard to please. He had gotten a lot of attention after the war, with people suddenly seeing that he was attractive and had played such a key part. He had gotten better, but his old shy ways were still there. “He’s a great guy. Just give him time to get comfortable around you.”

“I wish he would just be himself, frankly. Share his interests instead of trying to impress me.” Clementine levitated another log on to the fire. 

Harry chuckled. “Maybe you need a guy who isn’t so ‘nice’.”

Clementine scoffed, pulling a blanket around her shoulders. “Well, then you get involved with some hot guy and jump into bed way too fast.”

That sounded familiar. Harry shifted a bit on the sofa. “Um, well, finding someone you are sexually, um, compatible with, is, um...”

“Really fucking hot?” Clementine finished with a grin. She clinked her glass against Harry’s, and downed the shot. She shook her head as she set it down. “I’ve been there, done that, and it burns itself out after a few weeks. And then what?” 

Harry was definitely feeling the effects of the whiskey now. “You are like a modern day Goldilocks with all those guys,” he said with a wheezy laugh.

“Yeah, I want a guy who is ‘just right’. Not too soft, not too hard.”

The comment almost had Harry sputtering on his whiskey. “No, hard is definitely better than soft.”

Clementine rolled her eyes at him, but chuckled along. “I want a guy who is confident, knows himself, but still respects me. Someone sexy, funny and smart. Is it asking too much to have all of that in one guy?”

Harry scoffed. “At least you have a good selection to pick from. There aren’t that many gay men around my age with all that and also able to handle my, my...,” he waved a hand in the air, trying to think of the right word.

“Enormous cock?” Clementine filled in cheekily. “That’s such bullocks, Harry. I set you up with dozens of great guys all summer, all fine with your ‘fame’.”

That was true. Sighing, Harry stretched out, propping pillows under his head to lie the length of the sofa. “Maybe this mess with Draco was for the best. I just needed to get him out of my fucking system. Once I’m over him, I should give those guys another chance.”

Clementine was quiet, simply sipping her drink and staring into the fire. She was in a similar position to Harry now, lying along the other sofa with a throw covering her body. 

Harry looked over at her, wondering why she wasn’t saying anything. “What? You have something on your mind. Just spit it out.”

She looked over at Harry, her hazel eyes seeming wise for her age. “Come on, Harry. Are you really so blind?”

He sat up quickly, turning to face her. The movement made him realize just how drunk he was, putting a hand on the arm of the sofa to stabilize himself. “Apparently so.”

Clementine sighed, sitting up too and running a hand over her face. “You have been listening to what everyone has been telling you to do all fucking year. Maybe it’s time you take a moment and listen to yourself. Ask what you want and what’s right for you, for your future. And then fucking do that.”

She got up then, taking the tray away with her, which was probably a good thing. He likely would have finished off the rest of the whiskey and gotten even more morose. 

Instead, he stared into the fire, her words echoing in his head. He had been making all sorts of changes all year, and what did he have to show for it? A broken heart, trouble at work, and a fucked up public image that was going to haunt him for ages. 

He groaned when he thought back on all the embarrassing pictures in the papers the last few months. Could he somehow burn all the evidence and obliviate everyone’s minds? Pretend it didn’t happen? 

Pretend Draco didn’t happen?

What would his life be like now if Dante in that damn brothel hadn’t been Draco? If he had just been a dom who had sex with his clients? Harry probably would have enjoyed the twelve sessions, gotten more comfortable with his sexuality and figured out a way to come out publicly. Probably just dating some nice guys and riding through the press storm. Probably still working too much and going to all those charity events. 

Would he have been any better off with that less bumpy path? It would have been less chaotic, but he would have been blindly following the same old lifestyle. He never would have met Clementine, never dated those good guys in the summer like Brandon, Tristan and Edgar. Would he have had the whole interrogation incident? Would he have reacted the same way to Sera, or would he have been too stuck in work mode to be affected by her? Just passing her off to child protection without a second thought? 

He had been blind then, caught up in his old life, just as bad as he was now. What was he being blind about now? What was he not seeing?

...

Harry woke up with a killer hangover. He dragged himself off the sofa, the previous day coming back to him in flashes that made him feel even worse. 

This was the very sofa they had first kissed on. This blanket was the one Draco had yanked off him when they started making out. These pillows were the ones they had laid on together. 

Wiping the back of his hand over his eyes before the wetness there could fall, Harry pulled out his wand, his hand shaking. _”Evanesco,”_ he said firmly, flicking towards the sofa that disappeared with a slight pop. The blanket and pillows were next. The other sofa suffered a similar fate.

 _Fuck it._ Clementine could order new ones. Ones that wouldn’t remind him of Draco. 

Running up the stairs, he groaned at the state of his bedroom. He had been so busy with Draco, he had hardly been at home for weeks. Usually only to shower and change before meeting him for dinner. 

All his newer, fashionable clothing was scattered all over the floor, and the sheets were all twisted from sharing the bed with Draco. 

Not thinking too hard, he yanked the sheets off the bed and piled his laundry on top of them. And in a blink of an eye, he vanished the whole pile too. Gone were all those too tight trousers, shiny shirts, and shoes that pinched his feet. Gone, gone, gone.

This felt good.

A long, hot shower was next, and when he wiped the steam from the mirror, he frowned at the array of grooming products covering the counter. His wand vanished most of it. Fuck shaving. Fuck hair pomade.

Grabbing some old jeans and a hoodie, he quickly dressed. Even though so many things that reminded him of Draco were gone, just being in this house still had too many memories. He needed to get away from it all. 

Shoving his muggle wallet into his pocket, he ran downstairs and scribbled a quick note to Clementine.

**Going out of town. Don’t exactly know where. Won’t be gone too long.  
** **Buy new sofas & bill me.**  
**H**

He apparated into an alley in muggle London, a spot he had used last year to visit muggle gay bars. Paddington station was nearby, and he was on the next train heading west. Destination Anywhere.

...

After a couple hours on the train, he got off at a town with ‘Spa’ as part of it’s name. It just sounded peaceful. He could imagine serenely soaking in a hot spring pool with classical music playing softly. A good distraction from anything Draco.

But as he walked up the High Street, crowds of muggles were everywhere, mostly drunk and loud. Bands were playing amplified rock music every few blocks, and a park had a huge crowd gathered to watch a cricket match, a game Harry found dreadfully slow and dull after the excitement of Quidditch. 

Even worse, there seemed to be motorcycles everywhere, and Harry was reminded of the picture of Draco mounting a classic motorcycle that had kept him up nights. 

It just became too much to take, and he ducked into a small business just to escape it all. It turned out to be a barber shop.

“Hey there, young man. It’ll be about a five minute wait,” the barber said, glancing up from working an electric razor over an old man’s neck.

Harry swallowed hard, and then nodded, sitting down on the bench near the door and grabbing a nearby newspaper. He figured he might as well get something done with his hair since he didn’t have all his hair products anymore. 

It was strange being in a muggle space. The newspaper pictures were still, and the advertisements were often for electronics like mobile phones and televisions. Even in this old barber shop, there was an old TV playing a football match, the volume turned down low, and the electric razor’s buzzing. Since the war, he hadn’t spent much time in muggle areas, except for a few hours here and there. Quick trips to gay bars, or exploring like he did on his Harrod’s shopping spree. He didn’t do these type of normal muggle things. 

“Alright,” the barber said, jarring Harry’s attention away from his newspaper. He hadn’t noticed the other customer leaving. 

He sat in the chair, and the barber draped a black cape over his clothes, closing it snugly around his neck. Harry pulled off his cap, his damp, messy hair going everywhere. He ran his hands through it, getting it out of his face with a rueful expression. “Um, yeah, I used to wear it in a pompadour, but I want something easier to style.”

The barber was likely in his late 50s, and didn’t ask more before wetting Harry’s hair down, and sectioning it off. Before he knew it, the electric clipper was buzzing along his skin. 

Harry just shrugged to himself and watched in the mirror. He was ready for a big change. One less thing to remind him of Draco. 

By the time the barber was working on the top with a pair of scissors, he had mellowed out from being in the loud town. “So, is it always so busy along High Street? The crowds, the music...”

The barber beamed, his bright blue eyes meeting Harry’s in the mirror before he looked back at his work. “Oh yes! Cheltenham is known as a Festival Town.”

“That’s right!” A younger man chipped in, another customer who was waiting his turn after Harry. “I came in to go to the Hog Roast tonight.”

Harry tried to keep from grimacing. Great, more loud crowds. “Um, that sounds fun. Is there something going on with motorcycles too? There seems to be lots around.”

The barber seemed to be cutting off most of his hair, making big chunks fall on to his cape-covered lap. “Yes. A classic motorcycle festival, but there’s also a Beer and Wine festival put on by the Cricket Club this weekend.”

“Oh, I should maybe have picked somewhere else to visit then. I was hoping for a quiet getaway,” Harry said softly, more to himself than anything.

The barber looked a bit surprised. “You just came here on a whim, when there’s two festivals on? How did you get a hotel room at the last minute?”

“Oh, um, I didn’t actually, um...” Harry looked down, feeling even worse. He just didn’t have the energy to deal with more today. 

The other customer was clicking madly on his phone. “Wait, I think I found something in a nearby village. It’s a pretty quiet place.”

Harry shot him a grateful glance. Those mobile phones were muggle magic. “Can you reserve it for me? I, um, lost my phone.”

The younger man gave him a commiserating look, like this was quite a tragedy. “Sure, mate. What’s your name?”

“Um,” Harry thought frantically for a muggle-sounding name. They were usually blander than wizarding ones. “Dean Thomas.”

A couple minutes later, the man passed Harry a piece of paper with the name and address of the inn on it, along with a ‘reservation code’. 

Harry read it over. “The Cheese Rollers Inn?”

“It’s named after an ancient local festival done each spring, rolling a 5 kilo wheel of hard cheese over a cliff, with a few dozen idiots almost killing themselves to chase it,” the barber said with obvious censure. He was now working a tiny bit of product into the hair remaining on the top of Harry’s head. 

This started a heated debate between the young customer and the older barber, fighting over whether the festival was idiotic and should be cancelled. The customer even found a video to show Harry, with slow motion footage of many people falling ass over tea kettle down a steep hill in a way that seemed extremely painful. The young man still seemed in favor of the event, despite this. 

Harry was a bit surprised when the barber whipped the cape off and told Harry the price of his cut, he had gotten so involved listening to their discussion. He tipped generously, and thanked the other customer for the hotel reservation. 

The crowds were still everywhere, possibly even drunker and louder. Harry cringed at this, and looked down at the paper with the inn address. It sounded like he could eat a good meal there, but doubted if the small village would have many shops. He spotted a Marks and Sparks, and went inside to get a change of clothes. 

After the glamour of Harrod’s, the ancient department store seemed bland and antiquated. But as he walked through the menswear area, he ended up gathering up several basic pieces that would mix and match easily. He tried them on in a change room, and found everything fit fine. He ended buying almost all of it, shrugging to himself that he needed some clothes after vanishing so much earlier that day. Thinking of that, he stopped by the bedding department and got some new sheets. 

It was a quick taxi ride to the village. The pub was only half full, and the quiet atmosphere was a relief. The inn was likely around 200 years old, with only a few tiny guest rooms on the second floor. Harry was quite happy to have a room to himself. 

In the bathroom, he freshened up, and stared at his new haircut, trying to get used to it. It was buzzed quite short on the back and sides, with it only slightly longer on top. The barber had tousled it with minimal product, so it still felt soft and actually moved. It looked pretty tamed and made his green eyes seem bigger. It wasn’t a modern, fashionable cut, and Harry could almost hear the snide comment Draco would make about it. 

Fuck it. It was Harry’s damn hair and he’d do whatever he wanted with it.

Heading out of the room, he went down to the pub. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything all day.

...

It was a mild fall evening, and Harry carried his pint outside to sit on a wooden bench in the back garden. There were several picnic tables scattered across the grass, with their patio umbrellas closed up tight for the night. 

No one else was out there, and a mild breeze kept the mosquitos away. His belly was full and he was working on his third lager, so feeling much more mellow.

It had been good to get away from Grimmauld Place. He thought back to drinking all that firewhiskey with Clementine, and her vague comments at the end. “Ask yourself what you want and what’s right for you, for your future...”

He looked down at his glass and scoffed. Well, he wanted to drink a lot less, for sure. He had enough of waking up with hangovers and feeling tired. He didn’t bounce back from it as quickly as he used to. 

And loud bars...that was another thing he wanted a lot less of. How many nights had he been stuck beside Draco, trying to follow along with a conversation being shouted over the club music, and barely catching one word out of five? It became a bore, and he ended up watching the crowd instead. 

He’d already gotten rid of the tight club clothes and dressing to impress Draco or anybody else. Same with his hair. Sure, he had proved he could look like Draco’s crowd, fit in, but it was just external. Superficial. It wasn’t who he really was. 

Was it really, truly Draco, or was it all for show with him too? Had he not dressed like that in the spring because he couldn’t afford it, but really wanted to? He grew up rich, having the best of everything. Had he missed it? Or were the tight, sexy clothes just part of his rebel bookseller persona? Part of his act?

Would Draco keep this up forever? Or would he calm down in a year or two when the bookstore was well established? How involved did he want to be in it, day to day?

The Draco Harry knew in the spring was passionate about books, reading, ideas. He hadn’t seen that passion as much in Draco lately. 

Did Harry even know Draco now? Did he even like him? 

As Harry slowly sipped his drink and listened to the soft noises of the country village at night, he thought everything over. His job, his house, his charity work, his friends. His future.

By the time he got up to head upstairs, he knew what he needed to do.

...

Harry sighed as he apparated back into his own bedroom. The first thing he did was put the new sheets on the bed, and hang up his new clothes in the closet. He tidied up a little, leaving the room in better shape than it had been in ages. 

_One step at a time..._

Taking a deep breath, he went downstairs. Clementine was working in her office, and as he went through the drawing room, he noticed it was still mostly empty. No new furniture yet.

Clementine looked up when he appeared, and about a half dozen expressions flitted across her pretty face. Relief, concern, hurt, tiredness, wariness. He felt bad about some of them, like making her worry by being out of contact for a few days, and tiredness from taking on much of the work of the upcoming gala. The wariness he couldn’t really understand. 

“Harry!” Clementine rushed over, giving him a hard, long hug. His heart squeezed a little at that, and he returned the hug just as hard. When had this little firecracker crept into his heart? She felt like his cousin now, another Weasley for his collection. 

Her large hazel eyes were equally warm and concerned when she pulled back, looking over his haircut, the scruff of whiskers and casual clothing with a quick, all-seeing scan. Her perusal of his face made some of her concern ease. 

“The time away seems to have done you some good,” she finally said, moving back to her desk and shuffling through some files. “Sit down. You aren’t leaving until we decide about twenty things.”

Harry grinned a little at her bossy manner, and took a seat. She launched right into the overall plan for the gala, and Harry was impressed with how much work she had done. Her judgment was good, only needing a few tweaks from Harry. 

A solid hour later, Harry leaned back with a stretch. “So, I’ll work on my speech and get new dress robes. Anything else urgent on my side?”

Clementine scoffed. “Yes! The name! You insisted we launch the charity’s name at the gala, and I need to get information packages prepared by the end of the week.”

The name was something Harry and Clem had been debating for months. It needed to be original, and somehow capture the full scope of eventual activities the charity would cover. 

Harry nodded. “I’m still working on that too. I’ll have it to you by tomorrow morning.” 

Getting up, Harry paused at the doorway. “You have done an incredible job with this, Clementine. Truly.”

His smile was warm and genuine, and Clem returned it easily, seeming touched. But then her smile faded. “Um, Harry, before you go...”

His good mood dimmed at that, and he could feel his chest tightening with nerves. This was what she had been wary about, and it must be bad to affect his unflappable assistant this much.

He sat back down, and braced himself, more mentally and emotionally than physically. His energy, his attitude, could easily spiral right back down, leaving him unable to leave his bed for a few days. He knew it was all a fragile facade for now, and he would get stronger every day, build himself back up.

He lifted his chin, and nodded. 

Clem looked regretful. “Draco came by the house.”

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, taking that in. “When?”

“Every day. He wouldn’t leave until I answered the door. He wasn’t happy I had no idea where you were, or when you’d be back.”

Swallowing hard, Harry tried to hold himself together as he turned his face away. Looking towards the window but not seeing anything. 

So Draco wanted to see him. To what? Fuck? Talk? Fight? What was the point of any of that? Just the thought of it made Harry feel exhausted. 

He sighed, looking back towards Clem, but not meeting her eyes. “Fine. I’ll send him an owl. Let him know I’m back and safe. Let him know not to show up here again.”

“Harry...,” Clem said, moving to sit on the chair next to his, and taking his hand. She usually wasn’t like this, and he stared down at their linked hands in surprise. “You can’t just ignore him. Talk with him, even if it’s too officially end things. You both need that, at least.”

It sounded like a recipe for a shitload of pain and emotional torture. He shook his head.

“I am barely getting through each day as it is, and I just need to get my shit together for this gala. It’s too important to fuck it up,” Harry pulled his hand from hers, and walked quickly out of the office.

...

He almost wanted to escape again, get lost again, but knew he couldn’t. Maybe after the gala, he would take an actual real vacation. Walk barefoot on a sandy beach with waves lapping at his ankles. 

Now, he went to his study and pulled out some parchment. 

**Draco,  
** **I’m back and safe.  
** **I’m still very hurt and confused and need time to sort everything out.  
** **Please give me time to do this.  
**H****

There. Hopefully it would be enough to keep Draco off his doorstep. He sent it by owl before he could overthink it.

He tried working on his speech and the charity name, but nothing was flowing. With a frustrated huff, he dumped floo powder in the fireplace and was soon gone.

...

“... Death searched for the youngest brother as years passed but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age, he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals,” Harry read aloud, and smiled down at the three children curled up in a big upholstered chair.

Timothy grinned. “Again! Again!”

His older sister rolled her eyes. “It’s too long to read again, stupid.”

The other boy watched the siblings squabble, his eyes seeming more alert than the last time Harry had seen him, but his skin was still pale. 

Harry stood up, putting the book back on the bookshelf. “Maybe next time. How about we draw our own ideas from the story instead?”

The siblings liked the suggestion, racing over to the craft station to get working on colorful paper. The other boy was slow to move, and Harry stayed with him. 

“Do you think an invisibility cloak could really help?” Alister asked, looking up at Harry like he knew everything.

Harry shook his head. “I think it is just a myth, unfortunately.”

Alister seemed to accept this, going to work on his own version of the deathly hallows. 

Tatsuo waved at Harry from the doorway, and he went over to her. “It’s my coffee break. Want to join me?”

Agreeing, Harry said goodbye to the kids, and walked with the pediatric nurse down to the hospital cafe. They caught up, talking like old friends. Harry had been by at least once a week, despite everything else happening in his life. 

“I haven’t seen you out with your boyfriend in the papers lately,” Tatsuo commented, as they sat down with their drinks at a table far from others. 

Harry felt that familiar chest tightening, and shrugged. “Things don’t always work out,” he said, trying to keep things vague. 

She looked sad for him, but didn’t push for more.

“So, have you bought a new dress for my gala? I’m looking forward to seeing you in something besidse these scrubs.”

Tatsuo went with the topic change, describing her dress and sharing concerns about her relatively new boyfriend’s dancing abilities.

Harry chuckled. “I’m pretty awful too, and more eyes will be on me than on him!” 

He knew he would have to look confident and outgoing all night, no matter how he felt. Pump out positive energy and get everyone enthused about the cause, eager to donate. It was worth it. 

“You have been to so many of these events, you will do well, Harry,” Tatsuo said calmly, probably able to read him better than most people could because of her job. “But I can tell something is really worrying you.”

Usually, he would have waved away the comment. But Tatsuo had grown to be a good friend this year, a smart woman he respected very much. “Well, actually, I’m very stuck on finding the right name for the charity.”

He pulled out his paper with his rejected name ideas, going over his concept for the charity. “I don’t want it to have my name in it. And my parents’ first names ‘Lily James’, is actually the name of a muggle actress.” He had seen one of her movies with Brandon in the spring.

Tatsuo looked at him, her eyes bright. “I have a suggestion, actually. You can use it if you feel it would work, but I won’t be offended at all if you go with something else.”

...

He got home, feeling much better, and went right to the study to jot down a draft of his speech using phrases from Tatsuo, while they were fresh in his mind. He got so involved, it took Clem knocking on his door to get his attention.

“Oh, it’s you! Listen to this...,” Harry jumped up, pacing excitedly around the room as he laid out the charity name and the idea behind it. 

Clem gave him a stiff, small smile. “It’s perfect, Harry.”

His eyebrows drew down. “Then why aren’t you more pleased? Has something else happened?”

She sighed. “Yes. Draco came by again while you were out, even more insistent about seeing you.”

Harry clenched his teeth. “I sent him an owl! Told him I needed time and space, so he rushes right over? Typical!”

“He looks really, really bad, Harry. Can’t you just talk with him quickly?” Clem pushed, looking uncomfortable at being stuck in the middle of all this.

“No! There’s no way I want to see him now. Maybe not ever again.”

The words spilled out of his mouth, and he felt as shocked as Clem looked at him. Was it truly over between them? 

Clem sighed. “Well, that’s too bad, then. The only way I could get him to leave was to give him an invitation.”

“You gave a man who drinks like a fish and loves to make a spectacle of himself, preferably in the tightest clothes possible, an invitation to my formal gala for a children’s charity?” Harry could only stare at his assistant, aghast. “The charity will launch and crash the same night.”

“He promised to behave, Harry,” Clem said, rolling her eyes at Harry’s dire predictions, before leaving.

_He won’t come._

Some small voice in the back of Harry’s head whispered that, and he sat bolt upright, grabbing ahold of that glimmer of hope. “Yes, yes...,” he sighed, looking back down at his speech. 

Draco may want to see Harry, but he loathed formal, stuffy charity events, and had mocked them often to Harry in the past. Besides, Harry would be surrounded with people and busy all night. Surely Draco knew it would be futile to come and hope to actually have any time with Harry. Especially if Harry was actively avoiding him. 

The more Harry thought about it, the more he knew he was right. Draco would have taken the invitation, but he knew it would be useless to come. He’d only come if he wanted to shock people and drum up more press coverage, but Harry doubted even Draco would go so far as crashing a children’s charity event for that. He had worked hard on his own public image, and trying to stir things up with Harry like that would be a big mess for both of them. 

But Clem’s words kept repeating in his head. _He looks really, really bad..._ As much as he was trying to avoid thinking about Draco, a part of him was worrying about him. Was he feeling as crappy as Harry was?

_Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck..._

...

-Cheltenham: “is a regency spa town and borough on the edge of the Cotswolds, an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty in Gloucestershire, England. Cheltenham has been a health and holiday spa town resort since the discovery of mineral springs in 1716 and has a number of internationally renowned and historic schools.” (Wikipedia). The population is around 117,000, and it’s about two hours northwest from London. “The town hosts several festivals of culture, often featuring nationally and internationally famous contributors and attendees, including the Cheltenham Literature Festival, the Cheltenham Jazz Festival, the Cheltenham Science Festival, the Cheltenham Music Festival, the Cheltenham Cricket Festival, and the Cheltenham Food  & Drink Festival. In steeplechase horse racing, the Gold Cup is the main event of the Cheltenham Festival, held every March.”

-Cheltenham Spa railway station: ‘The official name of the town is simply Cheltenham, but, when the station was renamed in 1925, the London, Midland and Scottish Railway chose to add Spa to the station name.’ (Wikipedia)

-Cheltenham Cricket Club has held a wine and beer festival early September for 10 years, featuring cricket, live music, beer and wine tastings, and a Curry Friday, Hog Roast Saturday and BBQ Sunday. 

-Cheltenham Festival of Bikes is also early September, with over 100 classic motorcycles displayed in the town hall, along with award-winning custom bikes, choppers and race bikes. 

-Shurdington: This is the village where Harry stays, about 5 km from Cheltenham. It’s population is about 2000 people.

-Cheese Rollers Inn: Built in 1856, it was registered as an ‘alehouse’ in 1891 under the name ‘Cheltenham Original Brewery’, and the name changed to ‘Cheese Rollers Inn’ in 1970s for the nearby festival. History link [here.](http://www.gloucestershirepubs.co.uk/AllGlosPubsDatabase/RAIGConnection.php?pubid1=2164) Link to the pub is [here.](https://www.thecheeserollerscheltenham.co.uk) It’s only a pub now, with no guest rooms upstairs anymore, so I used some artistic license.

-Cheese Rolling: This festival goes back to pagan times, and is thought to maybe part of ceremonies of the spring. The first written reference to it in 1826 seemed to indicate it was an old tradition. It takes place at Cooper’s Hill, with a gradient of about 50% and almost vertical in parts. A hard round of Double Gloucester cheese, around 4 kg (8 lb) is given a one second head-start rolling down the steep hill, reaching up to 110 km/hr (70 miles/hr) by the bottom. Competitors chase after it, and the first across the finish line wins the cheese. Most fall and roll the way down, often resulting in serious injuries that need hospitalization. More info and pictures [here.](https://www.amusingplanet.com/2015/08/cooper-hill-cheese-rolling.html) 3 min slo-mo video of ‘Gloucestershire Cheese Rolling - Worst Falls 2018’ is [here.](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=gNj67kwWBoQ)


	23. Chapter 23

Harry took a long sip of water as he was introduced, and try to tamp down his nerves. He could do this.

Stepping up to the podium, Harry smiled at the warm reaction he got from the crowd, most people on their feet and applauding. His eyes scanned over everyone, seeing the Weasleys, friends from Hogwarts, friends from work, and many of the richest and most influential people he had come to know somewhat at various charity events in the last decade. Every seat was full, with people dressed in fine dress robes and full length gowns. 

“Thank you, thank you...,” Harry said, a _Sonorus_ charm making his voice carry easily. “I am very pleased and touched at the wonderful turn out tonight, and I’m eager to share the concept for my new charity with you now.”

He glanced down at his notes, trying to keep calm. It had been months since he had given a speech at a gala, and he felt a bit rusty. Plus, being his own cause, he was much more worried about doing well. 

“Through my work as an auror, I took a small girl to St. Mungos Hospital.” He described how he had found Sera, her horrible condition, and how well she recovered in the next few weeks. “Once it was time for her to leave the hospital, it became obvious that there was a gap in the system. She was a high risk child, who would need long term physical and emotional support to recover, and every program was full.

“Eventually, a placement was found for her and she is doing well. I visit her often and she has gained weight, and is running and playing like any happy girl should,” Harry paused, as a smattering of applause broke out.

He continued once it had died down, his eyes finding the table with Tatsuo and many other health care professionals he had come to know. “Unfortunately, Sera is not that unusual. As I followed her case, I saw so many other children facing similar challenges. Those without families entirely, or with families who didn’t have the time or money to support them the way they needed.

“I got to know one lovely, smart and caring pediatric nurse, and she told me about a wonderful type of art that her Japanese muggle ancestors started. It is called _Kintsugi_ , and it involves repairing broken pottery with a strong resin mixed with gold powder. The repaired piece is functional again, but also a beautiful piece of art, the damage highlighted by the gold.” Harry smiled at Tatsuo, and she returned it, looking flattered by his attention. 

He lifted a large bowl, turning it so the bottom faced out to the crowd, and the jagged, gold seams were clearly visible. 

“The kids I want this new charity to help are like _Kintsugi_ , so that is what I am naming this charity. It will take a lot of care and attention to help the many children in need to become fully functional adults, but they will be worth it. It will make them stronger, and better prepared to take on other challenges in life. Overcoming so much at a young age will make them valuable, contributing members of our future,” Harry said, his nerves falling away, the passion he had for this cause shining through with every word. 

The crowd responded to it, surging to their feet with applause and cheers. He was in his stride now, getting them to sit back down and detailing the different phases of the charity, and how they were planning to partner with other non-profits to fill the gaps. 

As he got to the end of his speech, Harry was feeling good. His eyes kept moving over the crowd, wanting his words to reach everyone, wanting to connect with them. Wanting them on his side. 

His eyes were on a quiet table at the back, a mismatched jumble of people Clementine put together in her seating plan. And there, in a bit of shadow, was Draco. 

Harry lost his train of thought, looking down at his speech and fumbling for a second before he carried on. Trying to look normal and just finish the speech strongly, when all he wanted was to look at Draco again. Make sure it was really him. 

The end of the speech was a blur, and then everyone was applauding him. He numbly stepped away from the podium, and was soon swept into a gathering of powerful people. They were congratulating him, shaking his hand, and promising big donations to the worthy cause. Clementine was at his side, writing on a notepad and whispering people’s names in his ear when he needed prompting. 

He seemed to be pulled around the room, talking to everyone. It was just the kind of response he had been hoping for, but his attention was still drawn away. 

_Draco is here. Draco is here. He is here..._

He had been so sure that Draco wouldn’t come, he hadn’t even considered what he would do now. If they talked, would they fight again? Would they cause a big scene? Could it a sour an otherwise perfect night?

Harry couldn’t help but catching glimpses of Draco as he worked the room. He seemed to be dressed in a deep navy tuxedo, his hair still the longer, shaggy style he had been sporting since he opened the bookstore. He looked good from a distance, even though Harry was looking for the signs that he looked bad like Clementine had mentioned.

The band was playing music, and many people had enough networking for the night, pulling their partners on to the dance floor to sway together. Many others left, having made an appearance at a gala that was sure to be talked by everyone. 

Harry was finally able to take a break, sitting at the table with Molly, Arthur, and George. Ginny was dancing with her date. Everyone welcomed Harry and Clementine to the half-empty table. 

“That was wonderful, Harry,” Molly jumped up to give him a hug, beaming. She patted Clementine’s shoulder as well.

Harry grinned, feeling relief to be around people who knew him well, and that he could just be himself with. “Clementine deserves most of the credit. She has done so much.”

Arthur was holding one of the _Kintsugi_ bowls that had been up for silent auction after the speeches, turning it over in his hands to examine the delicate work. “This must of taken a muggle artist hours and hours.”

Clem nodded. “What we can fix with a simple _Reparo_ , takes weeks. They apply the resin, let it dry two weeks, sand it smooth, then apply the gold dust mixed with resin. It has to dry another two weeks to be safe to use.”

George moved to sit on Harry’s other side. “I was thinking of doing a promotional product, with all the proceeds going to the charity.”

Harry liked the gesture, but wondered what kind of product would pair with helping disadvantaged kids. U-No-Poo or Wildfire Whiz-bangs just seemed to send the wrong message.

“I’ll drop by the store to discuss it, George,” Clem leaned to peer around Harry to tell her cousin. It made sense. She was strong enough to keep George in line.

“Where are Hermione and Ron?” Harry asked, having seen them briefly earlier. 

Molly looked to the other side of the large hall. “They went to get some dessert from the buffet.”

Following her gaze, he saw the well-dressed couple holding small plates heaped with sweet treats, but talking avidly with someone instead of returning to the table. 

Hermione stepped back, chuckling, giving Harry a better view. It was Draco, giving Ron a bemused smile as he talked. It looked friendly. Too friendly. 

He hadn’t even realized he had stood up until Clementine yanked on his arm. He looked down at her, and she gave him a long look that spoke volumes. A subtle reminder of where they were, and to not act so rashly.

He nodded, and pulled away. Walking towards them, his heart pounding, he could hardly even think. 

“Harry!” Hermione said when she spotted him, giving him a one-armed hug, holding her plate out to the side. “We are so proud of you.”

Ron had stepped closer, nudging Harry’s shoulder, and giving him an approving look to show he agreed with Hermione’s statement. It was a welcome change after months of disapproval and concern. 

“Thanks. I’m sorry that I’ve seemed to have interrupted your cosy talk though,” Harry said, shifting his gaze from his friends to Draco. 

Up close, it was even more devastating seeing Draco. The navy tuxedo was beautifully fitted, enhancing Draco’s tall, slim body. The rich color brought out his eyes, making them seem more blue than grey. His skin seemed a little too pale though, and there were faint dark smudges under his eyes. 

His eyes were looking just as attentively over Harry, taking in his short hair, the well-trimmed scuff along his jaw, the black dress robes with ivory dress shirt underneath. Probably seeing that Harry was a bit pale and tired looking as well.

“Um, we are just going to head back to the table to eat this. Want to join us?” Ron asked, taking Hermione’s hand with his free one. 

Harry shook his head. “No thanks,” he said, feeling his throat tighten. “I was just going to step on to the balcony for some fresh air. Want to join me, Draco?”

Draco’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he nodded. If there was going to be a scene, better to be away from prying eyes as much as possible.

Hermione and Ron soon left them, although Harry could swear he saw a hint of a grin on Hermione’s lips.

Grabbing a large bottle of mineral water and a couple glasses, Harry led Draco to the French doors. They opened on to a large balcony with pretty views of London. Pots of flowers and benches were positioned along the railing, making private dark spaces that many couple were taking advantage of. 

Harry went to the furthest bench, sitting down and pouring out two glasses of the bubbly water. He picked one up, taking a long swallow to help with his suddenly dry mouth. He scoffed lightly. “I don’t even know what to say to you, Draco. I’m still so confused.”

He had been numb since the argument, and had pushed away thoughts of Draco every time they popped up. He had just focussed on the gala, working long hours with Clem, getting everything perfect.

Draco sipped his water, and then set it down. “How about we both say we are sorry and then go right to the make-up sex?”

He said it with his normal smirk, his brash bravado, but Harry could see how vulnerable he was under all that. “Isn’t that what got us in trouble in the first place? Jumping right into sex? Not talking enough?”

“You are complaining with how it went?” Draco asked, arching a brow at Harry suggestively.

Harry was glad for the cover of darkness to hide his flushing face. “I’m not denying that the sex was fantastic, Draco.”

“Even though you seemed to feel dirty afterwards? Sullied by being with me?” His whisper had a sharp edge to it, peering at Harry through narrowed eyes. 

Harry blinked hard, the feelings from that last morning rushing back. “I began to wonder why you wanted to be with me. Why you came here tonight.”

Draco sighed loudly, tipping his head back to look at the waning moon. “You disappeared. I showed up at your house day after day, begging to see you, until your assistant finally took pity on me. Gave me this invitation. I had to come. Had to talk to you.”

“Fine. We are here. Talk.” Harry said, suddenly just wondering if they had anything left to salvage, or had the wreckage been too much? It hadn’t been much of a relationship to start with. 

The sharp words made Draco turn away, obviously surprised that Harry wasn’t making this easy like he always had in the past, doing anything Draco wanted. 

But Harry could sense that Draco was hurting just as much as he was, and if he didn’t do something, Draco would be walking fast right out the door. He had put himself out there, coming to Harry’s house all those times, and coming tonight. It showed he was still interested, still wanted to work things out. 

“Want to dance?” Harry asked, grabbing at the first idea that seemed half-decent. At least it was a gesture back from Harry, if they couldn’t talk yet. 

Draco was really surprised again, but eventually nodded. 

Harry stood up, and held out his hand. Draco took it, letting Harry pull him up and lead him back inside. On the dance floor, Harry pulled Draco close, knowing that everyone was watching them, but really not caring. 

Draco, back in his arms, swaying with him to the music. Harry could feel the sparks of awareness between them, as strong as ever. All he wanted was to hug Draco tight, and never let him go. But the fight, those harsh words and hurt feelings, held Harry back.

He glanced at Draco, surprised to see that he did look a bit lost, sad, and Harry wanted nothing more than to take that expression off his face. 

“I can’t just go back to how it was before, Draco,” Harry said softly.

He could feel Draco’s hand clench against his shoulder. “So this is it then? We are over?”

His voice was so full of pain, Harry couldn’t do anything but gather him close into a hard hug. Comfort him. Fuck it if people were watching. 

Draco let out a surprised gasp, but hugged Harry back just as hard. Sunk into him, and let his head fall to Harry’s shoulder, his face almost against Harry’s neck.

Harry could feel his warm breath against his skin, and it brought up so many sense memories. All those fantastic times cuddling in bed, spent and panting, feeling so good. It was so easy when it was just the two of them, alone, together. The rest of the world far, far away. But that wasn’t how the world worked. 

Harry swallowed hard, gathering his nerves and hoping his mouth wasn’t too dry to talk. His heart was thumping in his chest. “You know, I still have nine prepaid sessions with you.”

Draco scoffed, not moving from his position. “I don’t work at the brothel anymore. I’m not a dom, Harry.”

“I know. But it seems a waste to not be able to use those sessions,” Harry was talking more confidently now, pushing down the nerves and charging ahead. Gryffindor spirit surging up. 

Pulling back, Draco gave him a withering look. “I’m sure Monique could find you a suitable replacement.”

“No. As I told you before, I just want you,” Harry said softly, and his heart beat faster at the way Draco’s eyes lit up. “So,” Harry rushed on, before Draco could say anything, “I would settle for nine dates with you instead. In public. I understand that you still have a ‘no sex with clients’ policy.”

Draco’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, and Harry could tell his Slytherin brain was working over the offer. “Nine public dates and no sex the whole time? That could take weeks. Months.”

Harry felt a bit relieved that Draco was actually considering it, and hadn’t just pushed Harry away and stomped off. His past work in the brothel was a sensitive topic for him, something he wasn’t proud of. But he seemed a bit intrigued by the idea of the dates. 

Catching himself staring a little too long at Draco’s mouth, Harry gave a little shrug to lighten the mood. “We could have two or three dates a week, as it fits our schedules. It could take just a few weeks to have them all.”

Draco’s eyes were warming up, and his mouth quirked into a sexy smirk. “Or you could just come home with me right now,” he said softly, and leaned in to whisper in Harry’s ear. “Let me show you how much I missed you.”

 _Fuck._ The words made Harry instantly rock hard, and he was tempted to press right against Draco. Grind with him like they had in those clubs, drunk and horny, squeezed on a crowded dance floor. He wanted to apparate right to Draco’s bedroom, strip him out of that gorgeous suit and drag his lips over every inch of his pale skin. 

But as fantastic as he knew that would be, Harry pulled back to look at Draco. He had to stay strong. “I won’t deny that I’m very tempted. But I can’t go back to how we were before, Draco.”

He would just be drawn in, lose himself, and would feel worse and worse about himself every day. They had to break out of the old patterns. It was hard standing up to Draco, when he had tried so hard to please him in the past. At the brothel, as his submissive, but also the past few months. Dressing to please him, going to the restaurants and clubs he preferred, hanging out with his friends.

Draco seemed to be a bit hurt by Harry’s refusal, but he was still here. Trying to read Harry’s expression, trying to understand what Harry really wanted. “Platonic dating,” he said finally with a scoff. 

The song ended, and Harry took Draco’s hand, drawing him away to a quiet corner. “Please, please say yes, Draco.”

He knew everyone still at the gala was watching them, and probably had been since they went to the balcony. Knew everyone had watched as they had danced. Cringed internally at what would be in the papers tomorrow.

But the only thing that mattered was Draco and the next few minutes. If he refused, Harry knew they would be over. Knew he would be a mess, and hopefully be able to escape home without causing too much of a scene before he lost it. He bit his lower lip, his heart thumping in his chest, staring at Draco and willing him to say Yes. 

“Fine, Potter,” Draco finally said, tilting his chin up to a haughty angle. He dropped Harry’s hand, crossing his arms across his chest. “Owl me to organize the first _date_.”

He said the word sarcastically, contemptuously, but Harry could only give him a wide smile in return, his relief palpable. He was tempted to yank Draco forward to plant a big celebratory kiss on his lips, but that would hardly be platonic, would it? It would all too easily lead to going back to Draco’s bed tonight.

Draco rolled his eyes at Harry’s happy expression, but the corner of his mouth gave an amused twitch. “Goodnight, Potter.”

With that, he spun away, walking quickly to the floo and disappearing into the flash of green flames.

Clementine was at Harry’s side, guiding him back to the Weasley table. “That went well?” she asked softly, her hazel eyes hopeful.

Harry could only give a quick nod, too full of emotions to really speak about it.

She chuckled. “Why don’t you go home? I think you are done in for the night.”

“But the guests...the gala...,” Harry sputtered, glancing around the half full ballroom. 

She patted his hand. “People are just socializing now. Having a good time on your dime.”

Harry looked around and could tell she was right. The most powerful and rich people had already left, likely going to many of these galas each month. The remaining people were friends, old co-workers, people from various agencies he and Clementine had worked with. Tatsuo and other hospital staff. 

He saw Neville and gave him a little wave, but he didn’t seem to notice. Harry realized that his attention was solely on Clementine. At the same table sat Seamus, who seemed to be glaring at Neville for staring at Clementine.

Grinning, Harry looked back at his assistant, dressed in a lovely teal gown with her auburn hair twisted into an elegant updo. She was involved in a conversation with Ginny and George, but kept shooting quick, coy glances towards to men at the other table. Not so willing to give up on men entirely, it seemed.

Saying his goodbyes to Hermione and the Weasleys, Harry didn’t feel at all guilty about leaving. It had been a great night. A warm, enthusiastic response to the charity, lots of donations, lots of networking. It couldn’t have gone better.

But as he slipped off his dress robes and crawled into bed, his thoughts were full of Draco. Ideas for the upcoming nine dates had him smiling to himself in the darkness.

Nine dates to truly get to know Draco. Nine dates to see if they really got along. Nine dates to see if there was more to ‘them’ than their past and great sex. 

It could fizzle out. Be horrible and boring. Did they even share any interests outside of the bedroom?

Fears and doubts warred with excitement. Either way, Harry would be spending time with Draco, and at this point, it was enough. It felt right.

...

-A/N: The boys are frankly awful at talking about their problems, but hopefully the dates will help them with that. 

- _Kintsugi_ : ‘The Japanese art of kintsugi teaches that broken objects are not something to hide but to display with pride.‘ The name comes from _kin_ meaning ‘golden’ and _tsugi_ meaning ‘repair’, and is thought to be over 500 years old. ‘The kintsugi technique suggests many things. We shouldn’t throw away broken objects. When an object breaks, it doesn’t mean that it is no more useful. Its breakages can become valuable. We should try to repair things because sometimes in doing so we obtain more valuable objects. This is the essence of resilience. Each of us should look for a way to cope with traumatic events in a positive way, learn from negative experiences, take the best from them and convince ourselves that exactly these experiences make each person unique, precious.’ A 3.5 minute video is [here.](https://www.lifegate.com/people/lifestyle/kintsugi)


	24. Chapter 24

"OK, I'm here," Draco sighed as he joined Harry on the park bench.

Harry was glad to see Draco had worn old, comfortable clothes, like he had asked. He still looked great, and Harry had a hard time resisting giving him a hello kiss. Or two.

Smirking as he got up, Harry motioned for Draco to do so as well. The blond rolled his eyes, obviously questioning why the hell he had shown up for this first date.

Grabbing Draco's wrist firmly, Harry apparated them to a green field, that looked pretty empty.

Draco gave him a questioning look. "This is it?"

"It’s where the Chudley Cannons practice," Harry said, anticipation starting to grow inside him as he looked around, and then spotted a small pile of equipment. He dropped Draco's wrist and jogged over to inspect it. It had taken a few letters to get this favor from the team’s owner, who he’d met at various charity events over the years.

Draco was soon at his side, looking down at the small box Harry was holding, and the equipment lying on the grass.

Harry could tell he had figured it out. "They are both old Nimbuses, just like we used at Hogwarts. Pick the one you want."

He was sure he saw a bit of a smile beginning as Draco leaned over to get a closer look at the brooms. Harry removed the snitch from the box, holding the golden ball in his loosely cupped hand.

Draco was mounting the broom he picked, and Harry got on the other one. A minute later, they were in the air, swooping around the field to test out their Nimbuses. Harry was pleased that it felt like his old one, fast and responsive. But not quite as good as his Firebolt.

"Ready?" Harry called out, and Draco turned to face him, about halfway down the field.

Even from that distance, Harry could tell by Draco's posture that he ready to give the small ball good chase. "Ready to see you lose, Potter."

His taunt brought Harry right back to their Hogwarts days, the familiar desire to one up Draco becoming his only focus. He released the snitch, and the small golden ball zipped straight upwards. He lost sight of it when it crossed in front of the sun, and Harry had to divert his eyes.

They went to Draco instead, who was flying higher with large circles around the field. He had obviously lost sight of the small fast ball as well, and was searching for it.

Harry started a similar pattern, and it reminded him so strongly of doing this during all those practices and matches. He could almost hear Oliver Wood shouting instructions to George and Fred, or hear the dull roar from the spectators.

Lost in nostalgia for a moment, Harry almost missed the second when Draco's broom changed direction sharply and he zoomed downwards across the field. Out of pure instinct, Harry followed his trajectory, his eyes searching madly for what Draco was aiming for, his heart thumping with pure adrenaline. He couldn't let Draco win.

Although Draco had started for the ball sooner, Harry was closer, and they were soon side by side, racing after the zipping streak of gold. It veered different directions without warning, and Harry cheered to himself when the ball dipped and he followed the motion faster than Draco did, pulling ahead of him. That much closer to catching it.

His satisfaction was short-lived, as the snitch zipped to the left, and Draco was now closer to it. Harry was perhaps a bit better at flying, and he was able to catch up, again flying at Draco's side.

A few minutes later, the ball went upwards, and Draco reacted faster. He slowed down, almost hovering in the air, and slowly opened his hand.

Harry had slowed as well, flying closer to Draco, and saw the look of pure pleasure on his face as he looked down at the golden ball. His silver blue eyes met Harry's, and he could only smile back in return. Giving credit where it was due. Draco had won, fair and square.

He couldn't help but notice how good Draco looked, his eyes crinkling up as he smiled back, his windswept hair, his face flushed with exertion. The old, faded jeans he was wearing clung to his thighs. Harry felt a surge of pure desire, but looked away before Draco could see it. It would be far too easy to fall into their old patterns.

"Best two out of three," Draco called out, and Harry glanced back to see him releasing the snitch.

...

"Ok, I'm buying. What do you want?" Harry said when they entered the pub.

Draco smiled broadly, something he had been doing often all afternoon, sending Harry's stomach into somersaults. "Well, in that case, do they have any twenty year old firewhiskey?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry looked pointedly around the casual, rundown pub. "Yes, I'm sure there's a high demand for it 'round here. Go sit down," he said, heading towards the bar.

"Can I get a sarsaparilla and a glass of your cheapest firewhiskey?" Harry requested, after making sure Draco was seated far away.

The blond barmaid didn't look impressed at the order, but passed him the drinks.

Harry had to keep his face neutral as he set the whiskey in front of Draco. "They had some ten year old Ogden."

"That will do fine," Draco said smugly, and took a sip, clearly savoring the liquor.

Harry sipped his soft drink, hiding his laugh.

Draco seemed to sense something was off, and looked at Harry with narrowed eyes. "Why are you drinking sarsaparilla? Aren't you an adult yet?"

"If I'm underage, what does that make you? We shared a bed often enough these last few months," Harry teased. "I'm just trying to drink alcohol less often."

Draco didn't seem impressed, tilting his chin up slightly as he looked at Harry assessingly. "Is this all part of the 'new' Harry? Is that why we are on this disgustingly wholesome date? What will we do next time? Play Bingo at a muggle church with octogenarians?"

"Afraid we won't get along without some libations? Something to smooth over the rough edges?" Harry teased back. Draco, being snarky and snobby, just did it for him. Maybe because he was one of the few people who wasn't that impressed with Harry's past.

Draco looked down at his glass, not responding with another sharp comment. When he did finally meet Harry's eyes, there was a hint of vulnerability there. "Maybe."

Harry felt that like a kick to his stomach. Suddenly, he knew why Draco had been so persistent, why he had come to the house so much. He liked Harry, and wasn't that confident in the feelings being returned. In the relationship lasting.

Harry thought about their attempts to talk at the gala. Draco trying to solve things with sex, and thinking everything was over when Harry said he couldn't go back to how it was before.

"I think we are doing good so far, Draco. I had fun today," Harry said softly.

Draco smiled slowly, and his old cockiness returned. "Well, I beat you to the snitch twice, so I had a great time as well. Too bad we didn't play against each other more at school."

Memories of all the things that had kept him from playing quidditch in his later years flashed through his mind. Draco had been caught up in it all too. The Chamber of Secrets, the Tri-wizard Tournament, Draco trying to kill Dumbledore in 6th year... And Harry not even being at Hogwarts for the last year. Harry hunting Horcruxes and Draco often at the Manor with Voldemort and all the Deatheaters.

"It was beyond our control," Harry finally said, and Draco nodded, knowing that he meant far more than just quidditch. "We worked with what we had."

Draco shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder what life would have been like without...without..."

Harry nodded, understanding. He wondered that too. If Voldemort hadn't come back, would they had played quidditch against each other until leaving Hogwarts? Would either of them gone on to playing professionally? Would their rivalry have ever mellowed as they matured? Could they have ever become friends, or maybe more?

Images of sneaking kisses from Draco in shady corners of that huge school popped into Harry's mind. Of holding hands under a desk during class, or pressing legs against each other, trying to act normal while Snape droned on and on. Of hands slipping underneath school robes to touch and explore while making out, pressed up against a tree.

Draco could tell the way Harry's thoughts were going, and shifted closer, his leg pressing against his under the table. He felt warm, and Harry closed his eyes against the idea of apparating to Draco's right now. Stripping each other quickly and crawling on to the bed, like they had so often in the past.

Grabbing his drink, he gulped it down, suddenly parched and needing to cool off. "Um, well, this first date was been great. I'll owl you with plans for the second one. Bye, Draco."

He jumped up and practically ran to the fireplace, grabbing some floo powder and throwing it into the flames. He was home in an instant, breathing hard.

It was going to be hard to resist Draco, but if it gave them a chance at something long term, it was worth the frustration.

...

"Now cut up the sopohorus bean," the potions master intoned from the head of the room.

When Draco took his knife and tried to cut the large bean, Harry put his hand over Draco's to stop him. A bolt of pure awareness shot up Harry's arm, and he had a hard time not squeezing Draco's hand. Instead, he drew the knife away and laid the side of it flat against the bean to crush it.

"It's easier this way," Harry said softly, and then added a couple drops of it’s juice to their cauldron.

Draco glared at him. "I consistently got better marks in Potions than you, and you are telling me how to do things?"

His tone took Harry right back to their school days, and he could only grin in response. "How much of those high marks were because Snape marked you easier? I did great in Slughorn's class."

"Gentlemen, it's time to add the essence of milkweed," their instructor said to them softly as she walked around the classroom, checking on all the students.

Draco snatched up the bottle, and added three drops to their concoction. "I can't believe you signed us up for this."

Harry just gave a little shrug, and worked on chopping up the next ingredient. He was finding this quite similar to muggle cooking, preparing the ingredients and following the instructions from a book. His cooking skills had improved a lot in the last year.

The adult education class had ten participants, all working in pairs. The training center had classrooms with other courses, like 'Uncanny Cooking', 'Apparate with Ease' and 'Get the Most out of Your Wand'. All sorts of topics for adults to brush up their skills on in their off hours.

"I always wondered what it would be like being your partner in potions class," Harry said, stirring the potion and giving Draco a satisfied nod. "I think it's done."

Rolling his eyes, Draco poured the clear dark purple fluid into two small glasses. They watched as the potion lightened to a blue color as it cooled. Draco glanced at the instructor, whose was holding up her glass. "I don't think ours looks right. Her's has more of a green tinge."

"It's just a Cheer-Up potion," Harry said with a shrug. "I'm sure it will be fine."

He picked up one of the glasses, and gave Draco a steady look until he picked up the other one. Now, it was like a game of chicken, seeing if either of them would lose their nerve.

But they didn't, and they both took the shot. The flavor was slightly sweet, with a herbal undertone, but not that unpleasant.

Around the classroom, everyone was setting down their glasses, and big, relaxed smiles spreading over their faces. Grinning happily at their partners, the instructor, and the other people in the class like they didn't have a care in the world.

The whole thing was so ridiculous Harry burst out laughing. Loud laughs that had everyone's heads turning his way. He covered his mouth with one hand, and gave them a dismissive wave as he tried to quiet down. But found that he couldn't.

Draco started laughing at him then, his eyes crinkling up as he watched Harry. He was just as loud as Harry was, and soon his hand was covering his own mouth. "What did you do?" he chuckled, grabbing the sheet of instructions and looking over it.

Draco's question made Harry laugh even harder. "Me?" Harry wheezed, trying to catch his breath. "You added half the ingredients. Maybe you measured wrong."

It was like Harry had told a great joke, sending Draco laughing so hard he bent over slightly to clutch his stomach.

The instructor drifted to them, still looking serene from her properly prepared happiness potion. "Gentlemen, I think you added too much Rue. I've seen this before."

"How long do the effects last?" Harry gasped, chuckling between every word.

She shook her head, trying to look concerned, but still somehow cheerful. "2-3 hours usually."

Draco seemed to find this hilarious for some reason. "Hours?" he sputtered, wiping tears away from his cheeks.

Rolling his eyes, Harry grabbed their coats and tugged Draco out of the classroom, keeping on until they were standing outside. People walking by were staring at them, two men laughing so hard and so long.

There was a small part of Harry's brain that didn't find this funny. It wasn't how he had wanted this date would go. He had pictured them being in a great mood after the class, and going to a pub for a drink. Talking openly all night.

Instead, they were laughing like they were insane and getting some strange looks. How long before they were recognized and this got into the newspaper?

Grabbing Draco's hand, Harry apparated them to muggle London, to the quiet alley near Paddington Station. At least here they weren't well known.

"Muggles!" Draco said, his face screwing up as he let out a guffaw. The sound reminded Harry of the bray of a donkey, and he laughed hard at the idea.

Shaking his head as he tried to collect himself, Harry led them out on to the street and thought about where they could go for a couple hours until the potion wore off. Pubs and shops wouldn't work. He chuckled as he thought of security kicking them out for being too loud.

Draco was chuckling at muggles, mostly amused by their clothing. American tourists seemed to trigger him the most, getting him some offended looks. If they weren't careful, their laughing was going to get them into a fight.

Harry kept dragging Draco along, chuckling himself as possibilities occurred to him, everything just seeming ridiculous.

"Oi! I've heard that's a good muggle movie," Draco waved a hand at the front of a cinema they were passing.

Stopping dead in their tracks, Harry looked at the poster. 'An Instant Cult Classic, This is the Smartest, Funniest British Comedy for Ages!' was in bold writing across the top. They were in front of the theatre he had gone to with Brandon, and it appeared to be showing old comedy favorites.

Chuckling, he pulled Draco inside. "Two for 'Shaun of the Dead' please."

...

Two hours later, they left the theatre. They were both quiet and feeling rather drained.

"Want to get something to eat?" Harry offered, giving Draco an uncomfortable look.

Draco shook his head. "Nah. I think I need to go to bed. I'm bushed."

Harry led them to a secluded spot to apparate back. "I'm sorry for how this date went."

Draco gave a small smirk. "I'm sure we will look back on this one day and laugh." He raised his hands to his cheeks with a grimace. "But not for a while. My cheeks actually hurt from laughing so hard."

"And it feels like I was forced to do a thousand sit-ups," Harry agreed, rubbing a hand over his sore stomach.

"I should have known better than to ingest something you made," Draco sighed, with a weak chuckle.

Harry's eyes widened. "Well, um, I hope that doesn't include my cooking, since the next date is at my place."

"Your place?" Draco's eyes caught his, and Harry could tell memories of hot kisses and naked sexy times were on his mind. This wasn't a date in public like they had agreed on..

"Yes, and I invited a handful of other people," Harry rushed to say, not wanting to give the wrong impression.

Rolling his eyes, Draco nodded. "Fine. See you then."

...

"You remember Luna, of course," Harry said, smiling at the woman with a long braid of white blond hair.

Draco turned to her, and gave her a tentative smile of greeting.

Luna stepped forward to give Draco a hard hug. She whispered in his ear a little before pulling back.

Harry looked at Draco, a little concerned. He was still smiling, but Harry could tell he needed a break.

Giving Luna an apologetic look, he tugged Draco out the back door of the house. It was lightly raining but not too cold. The small porch kept them dry.

Without thinking about it too much, he pulled Draco into a tight hug. Draco froze at first, seeming surprised, but then he sunk into Harry, hugging him back just as hard.

After a few minutes, Harry ran his hands up and down Draco's back in a comforting gesture. "I'm sorry, Draco, I didn't think about how hard it would be for you to face all my old friends."

Draco let out a shaky breath. "People I fought against in the war? People I bullied at Hogwarts? People who were imprisoned in my house?"

Harry pulled back to look at Draco directly. "Well, by the time the Battle at Hogwarts happened, you were looking for a way to get away safely with your parents. You weren’t fighting us. And Luna told me ages ago that you brought her food and a blanket when she was at your house. You couldn't do more for her."

Pulling away, Draco turned to face out to the rain, wrapping his own arms tightly over his chest. "I was such a pompous git at Hogwarts."

Resting a hand lightly on his shoulder, Harry chuckled. "We were all idiots. It's part of being a teenager. If you just face everyone and apologize, they will forgive you. A lot of time has passed."

Draco straightened up, and walked back into the house, with Harry trailing behind him. He gave him some space, watching as he went to Luna first, talking softly together, and ending with another hug.

Harry went into the kitchen, pulling some scones out of the oven and adding them to the buffet table in a basket. He refilled a couple items that were running low.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Draco talking with everyone else the way he had with Luna. Always ending with shared smiles, nods, sometimes a friendly slap on the back or a hug.

He joined Draco eventually, talking with George and Clementine. Draco seemed to be laughing just a little too hard, and he grinned widely at Harry. "Show him, George!"

George was holding a box in his hands and he dumped the contents on to a nearby table. Harry could see it was broken pieces of pottery. "It's a prototype item for my shop, with all the proceeds going to your charity. What was it called again?"

"The Kintsugi Foundation," Harry said, his tone cautious.

George nodded, taking out his wand. "Yeah, right! Well, I thought this would be fun for kids and get your message out there."

He flicked his wand, and the pieces started to reassemble into a single object. Harry groaned as it became apparent what the end result would be. A small ceramic bust of his head and shoulders, complete with the scar on his forehead.

"The kids will of course use special gold glue and repair it by hand, for the true kintsugi experience. I think I'll call them 'Crack Pots'," George proclaimed proudly, and handed the finished piece to Harry.

It was about the size of his hand and fairly light, since it was hollow. He felt a bit speechless, and glanced at his assistant. She had said she would oversee what George was up to in this project.

Clementine gave a small shrug. "This was by far the best idea. Some of the other ideas had your head exploding, which was dangerous for children and a little disturbing. I don't like the name though."

Draco snatched the bust from Harry's hand, turning it over to look at closer. "I think it should be called 'Scarhead'."

Harry glared at him, remembering all those times Draco had called him that at school. Always with a sneer, his head tilted like he was above everyone else.

"Scarhead! That's great!" George said loudly, and people nearby turned to see what he was talking about. Pretty soon everyone at the party was passing around the ceramic bust and throwing out their own suggestions.

Draco moved to stand beside Harry, nudging him with his shoulder, clearly enjoying the way his friends were teasing him.

Feeling a bit irritated, Harry went to the washroom, and then went into the kitchen afterwards, just needing a moment to himself.

Hermione came in, grabbing a beer from the fridge and leaning on the counter by Harry. "Are you doing OK? How are things with Draco?"

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing, Hermione," Harry sighed. "I thought these nine dates would help us get closer but I keep screwing up."

"I think they are going pretty good. I think chasing a snitch and going to that potions class were a good way to face up to your old feelings from Hogwarts. And this is making Draco make peace with all your old friends," Hermione said calmly.

Harry scoffed. "He already told me that he's taking me to a Slytherin club. Getting back at me for making him do this," he said, running a hand through his hair.

"I think it's good. You will just as uncomfortable there as he was here, at first. But sometimes things aren't so bad when you look at them again as an adult. Let go of your old Slytherin prejudices and try to see them as real people."

Harry sighed. "Well, I guess you and Ron have already made your peace with him. I saw how friendly you three were at the gala."

Hermione looked down, and spoke to Harry in a quiet voice. "You should have seen him, Harry. He had none of his usual swagger. He looked kind of lost and sad, dressed up so nice and just watching you as you worked the crowd after your speech. I could tell he wanted to talk with you so badly."

Her words shocked Harry, and he could tell she meant them. What had it been like for Draco, when Harry wouldn't talk to him after their fight? Had he felt like Harry had, when Draco had left after their third session at the brothel and refused to see him? He could remember how sad and desperate he had felt, willing to do or say anything to have Draco forgive him.

Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder. "Ron and I went to sit with him, mentioning his business and how everyone was talking about the debates. I really love his bookstore, and he is actually quite interesting to talk to. He was even recommending books to Ron on quidditch by the time we went up to get dessert."

Harry gave her a hug. "Thanks," he said softly. They knew each other well enough she knew what it was for. For making Draco feel more welcome at the gala, for giving him some company, for getting to know him as he was now. For seeing how much they liked each other and trying to see what Harry saw in him.

Going back into the living room, Harry went right to Draco's side. He was standing with Neville, Seamus, Dean and Clementine, and mostly seemed to be watching the young woman interacting with the men.

"You really should come up to Hogwarts sometime soon, Clementine. The greenhouse is full of Serendipity roses, and being surrounded by their beauty and soft fragrance is quite breathtaking," Neville said, his brown eyes earnest on her's.

Seamus stood up straighter, shooting Neville a challenging look. "She is already booked up. We are going to the theatre festival in Dublin."

Even Dean seemed to be under her spell now. "You don't need to go that far to see interesting things," he scoffed. "I grew up in muggle London and can get us great seats for a West Ham United match, or we could check out this movie a friend of mine saw lately. He said it was so funny the usher kept having to tell a couple blokes to quit laughing so loudly."

Harry glanced Draco's way, and could tell he was holding back a laugh at that. He surprised Draco by taking his hand, and tugging him over to the buffet table. "Are you doing OK?"

Draco took a plate and loaded it with veggies, dip, fruit and a big brownie. "Sure. That Clementine is amazing though, the way she subtly works those guys, getting them working so hard to impress her. Pure Slytherin, through and through."

Almost choking on a sip of water, Harry wiped his mouth with a napkin. "She's a Weasley! They are all Gryffindors."

Giving a little shrug, Draco popped a strawberry into his mouth. "Once in a while, a different house pops up. Like Sirius Black being a Gryffindor when the rest of his family were Slytherins."

It reminded Harry of the sorting ceremony, and how long the hat had deliberated before putting him in Gryffindor. He looked over at Clementine, calmly flirting with her entourage of admirers. Then he thought of the way she handled his charity work, discouraging the people he didn't want to work with, and forging relationships with those he did. Even the way she encouraged him to fix up the house. Manipulation so subtle he thought it was his own ideas half the time. It fit that she was Slytherin, the more he considered it.

"How awful is this next date going to be for me? A whole private club full of Slytherins?" Harry gave a small shudder at the thought.

Draco gave him a sardonic arched eyebrow. "Any worse than what I faced tonight?"

Not sure how to answer that, he grabbed the brownie off Draco’s plate. Harry took a big bite before setting the remainder back. He closed his eyes, savoring the rich chocolate dessert. It was the perfect combination of slightly crunchy on the outside, dense and soft inside.

He opened his eyes to find Draco staring at his mouth, his eyes definitely heated. Harry reacted immediately, strong arousal flowing through his body. His thoughts went to his bed, only a couple flights of stairs away. The party was lively enough that they wouldn't be missed.

Draco set down his plate on the edge of the buffet table, and grabbed Harry's wrist. He yanked him into the hallway, a shadowy and thankfully empty space.

Harry could hardly get a word out before Draco was pushing him against a wall, and kissing him hard. After a few seconds, Harry's arms wrapped around him, tugging him closer. Draco's kisses softened then, long and lingering, making Harry strain to get closer.

 _Fuck it. Fuck this whole stupid plan for nine platonic dates._ Why deny themselves fantastic sex? They could still go on dates and fuck all night afterwards, right? Draco was kissing Harry's neck now, making Harry tilt his head back, just wanting more.

"Come upstairs," Harry panted, opening his eyes to look at Draco. But in the corner of his eye, he saw something move. It was Ron, standing frozen in the doorway. It made Harry freeze as well, stiffening in Draco's arms.

Draco looked around to see what happened, and let Harry go. He straightened his clothes, and ran a hand quickly through his hair. "Yeah, um, I think it's time for me to go. Say goodbye to everyone for me."

He kissed Harry lightly on the lips and waved goodbye at Ron, before slipping out the front door.

Harry sunk against the wall, knowing his face was probably red. It was one thing for his best friend to know he was gay or even see him dancing with a guy at a gala. It was completely different seeing him all hot and heavy with another man.

"Um, I was just going to say goodbye as well. Early shift tomorrow," Ron said with a lopsided grin.

It sent a pang through Harry, suddenly missing working with Ron as partners. The topic hadn't come up for a while, since Harry had been so snappish about it before. At least Hermione and Ron had stayed his friends, through everything he had gone through this year.

Stepping forward, Harry gave him a hug. A bro hug, only touching upper bodies briefly together and slapping each other on the backs affectionately. "Thanks for coming over."

Ron was soon gone, but Harry took a minute before rejoining his guests.

It had been good to kiss Draco, to know all their mutual passion was still as strong as ever. That despite the fight, Harry being distant and not going back to their old ways, Draco still wanted him. Harry as he was now, with a basic barber-shop haircut and department store clothes. And he kept coming on these dates, despite all the uncomfortable situations that kept occurring. He had been the one to drag Harry somewhere for some intense kisses, like he couldn't resist doing it.

...

-A/N: Dating fun! Harry is trying to plan dates they will get them knowing each other better, instead of just going out to restaurants, etc. 

-Shaun of the Dead: This 2004 British comedy stars Simon Pegg and Nick Frost, and was directed by Edgar Wright. The BBC review called it a "side-splitting, head-smashing, gloriously gory horror comedy" that will "amuse casual viewers and delight genre fans." It has been called one of the best horror-comedies of all time & Quentin Tarantino includes it in his top twenty films made since 1992.  
Plot: “Shaun doesn't have a very good day, so he decides to turn his life around by getting his ex to take him back, but he times it for right in the middle of what may be a zombie apocalypse...” (IMDB). Trailer is [here.](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=LIfcaZ4pC-4)


	25. Chapter 25

Harry hesitated stepping over the threshold into the dark interior. Draco's hand was on the small of his back, and Harry could swear he gave a firm push that finally got him moving.

The private club was elegant and old, with dark wood panelling covering the walls and thick, deep red rugs on the floors. A long hallway was covered with paintings of the most famous Slytherins, all moving within their frames to look at Harry with great suspicion.

At the end of the hall, there was a large room with several fireplaces, the golden light they gave off dancing over the people gathered there. A couple dozen faces seemed to turn towards Draco, and he was greeted warmly.

His arm now firmly around Harry's lower back, Draco guided him to each person in turn, introducing him with perfect manners. Harry was surprised that almost everyone was a few years younger, with bright eager faces of those who were embarking on their new careers. None of them with the hardened eyes of those who had fought in the war.

Harry was welcomed, but it all felt a bit stuffy and formal. Were these really Draco's friends?

Draco had also introduced him to the few older men there, likely too old to have been that involved in the last wizarding war. He pushed Harry into a chair near a fireplace when he had to rush off to discuss an upcoming Stormcloud event with someone, apologizing and promising he wouldn't be long.

"Firewhiskey?" A senior sitting in an armchair nearby offered, waving a hand towards the crystal decanter and glasses on the table between them.

Even though he had been drinking a lot less lately, Harry felt the need for a drink now. He poured himself a couple fingers' worth and took a sip. The flavor was a subtle blend of smoke, peat, and a hint of dark chocolate. He let out an appreciative hum.

"Fifteen year old Blishen. Never touch that Ogden swill," the man said, lifting his own glass in salute. "So, you are Harry Potter. I hope you don't expect me to be impressed."

"I don't expect anything," Harry replied, finding it a bit refreshing to be around people who didn't immediately stare at the scar on his forehead in awe.

"I knew your grandfather, of course. Fleamont was a few years older than me, and quite gifted at potions. He was also fierce when dueling, which you could imagine he'd have to be with a name like that."

Information about his family always intrigued Harry, and he turned towards the man. "Do I look at all like him, Mr. Flint? People often say I take after my father's side of the family."

The old gentleman peered at Harry a little closer, and then shrugged. "It's hard to say. Fleamont and his wife died suddenly from dragon pox, so it's been ages since I've seen him. Plus, he always wore his hair slicked back with that damn hair potion. You should maybe use it on yourself." His eyes flicked up to Harry's tousled hairstyle.

"Oh right, that Sleekeazy stuff," Harry said, vaguely remembering someone mentioning that it contributed greatly to the gold in the Potter's vault. Fleamont Potter had invented it.

Mr. Flint took a long sip of his drink. "At least he wasn't alive to see his only son marry that mudblood."

Suddenly, Harry wasn't feeling as interested in talking with the old man. "So, you believe the Sacred Twenty-Eight should just keep on intermarrying? Your grandson Marcus has those horrible huge teeth, and had to repeat his final year. Are those really traits you want passed on?"

Mr. Flint slammed his glass down on the table, sitting up straighter to glare at Harry. "What do you know about anything? After your foolish parents got themselves killed, you were raised by muggles."

"I learned a lot living with muggles, actually. The muggle royal families were a lot like your 'sacred twenty-eight', all marrying cousins off to each other. And you know what happened? A lot of them ended up with a horrible blood disorder, haemophilia," Harry snapped back, and jumped out of the chair to find Draco.

The club was like a rabbit's warren of rooms, with gatherings of Slytherin no doubt hatching their newest plots and plans in each one. After walking through a few and not finding Draco, Harry plunked himself down on a big armchair near a fire in a quiet corner. Just taking a minute to settle down.

He really shouldn't judge all Slytherin's based on one bigoted old man. Clementine wasn't anything like that, and Draco had certainly changed his own views.

Looking to the side he saw a large glass terrarium, and leaning closer, noticed a large snake inside. There was nobody around, so Harry tried hard to remember an old skill. 'Hello,' Harry said finally, in Parseltongue.

The snake lifted it's diamond-shaped head at hearing that, flicking out it's forked tongue. 'Was that you?' it hissed back.

Just hearing the language seemed to awaken that underused part of Harry's brain. 'Yes. My name is Harry.'

'They call me 'Papa', likely because I'm a Papuan olive python. But I'm actually female.'

Harry chuckled, looking over her olive green skin, with a lighter grey-green belly. 'Do they take good care of you?' He could see why the Slytherin club would have a live green snake, but hoped she was treated well.

'Yes, but I get a bit bored and lonely.' She seemed to be looking at Harry with curiosity.

"There you are, Harry. I was looking everywhere for you, and here you are in a corner hissing at a snake." Draco stood beside Harry's chair, a bit of a smirk on his lips.

Harry stood up. "Sorry, needed to get away from Mr. Flint."

"Yes, he's awful," Draco said, and tugged at Harry's sleeve. "Come along. A few of my friends are here now and we are going to play poker."

"I don't know how," Harry sputtered.

Draco grinned. "They hardly do either. I used to play a lot, at that place I used to work." And Harry knew he meant at the brothel, even though he hadn't spelled it out.

Harry looked down at the snake, not wanting to leave her right after she had said she was lonely. "Would you mind if I bring her with us?"

"You really want to greet my friends with a snake draped around your neck?" Draco chuckled.

'I'm going to play cards. Would you like to come along?' Harry asked Papa, not caring if his hissing sounded odd to Draco.

Papa nodded immediately. 'Lower your arm and I'll climb up it.'

It was a little strange, feeling the medium-sized snake working up his body and settling along his shoulders, her slim tail circling along the base of his neck.

"Is this your way to keep me from pushing you against a wall again? Some type of chastity device?" Draco smirked, taking Harry's hand to pull him along.

They arrived in a cozy room with a large round table in the centre. The four people sitting there stood up when they entered.

"It took you long enough," Pansy Parkinson huffed, giving Harry an unimpressed look. She looked much the same as she had at Hogwarts, with shoulder-length dark hair and a hard face. The only difference was that she was wearing a dark green dress instead of school robes.

Draco gave her a stern look. "You promised to behave, Pans."

"Fine," she sighed, and walked over to Harry with her hand outstretched. He shook it out of surprise more than anything, reminded that the tradition was born out of greeting enemies, a way to prove you weren't holding a weapon. "Nice snake," she commented dryly.

"It's not mine," Harry rushed to say, probably sounding like an idiot.

"Hi, Harry. It's been a long time," Blaise Zambini said, his deep voice seeming unperturbed by Pansy's rudeness. He shook Harry's hand as well, scanning him over thoroughly.

Harry had seen pictures of Blaise out with Draco in the papers when he had first returned to London. He had studied those pictures closely, and Blaise looked much the same. A tall, handsome black man, dressed impeccably in a grey suit.

Draco introduced Harry to the other two men, both in their early twenties and attractive. Harry recognized them from other newspaper photos, as guys that had been going out to gay clubs with Draco, often touching him or standing a bit too close. Harry instantly hated them.

This was going to be a fun night.

Some servers brought in drinks and food, and they were soon settled around the table. Draco explained the rules, as Harry and Mathias hadn't played before. They all had thrown ten galleons into the pot, getting a stack of colourful wooden poker chips in return to play with.

Harry explained the game to Papa, and found she asked intelligent questions in return. She followed along with the game, sometimes giving suggestions. Their communications got a few funny looks, but Harry didn't really care.

Playing poker with Slytherins kept Harry on his toes, as they often tried to bluff. Papa was helpful there, telling him when she could sense someone getting nervous. She even helped Harry take a big pot from Pansy, with only a pair.

Draco seemed happy that Harry was playing hard, and he knew they would respect him more if he was a good competitor. Plus, Harry always liked winning.

Pretty soon, it was down to Blaise, Harry and Draco, the other players having lost all their chips. Blaise and Draco had obviously played the game a lot, betting aggressively when they had an advantage. Harry had pretty good cards and was debating whether he should meet Blaise's raise, or fold.

Draco was sitting on his right, and his free hand had moved to Harry's knee sometime in the last round. It had felt nice, so Harry hadn't moved it away. But now it was slowly moving upwards, making it a little hard to think straight. Was Draco actually going to move his hand all the way up? Would anyone else be able to tell? There was a tablecloth, but would Harry make a noise or give it away with a funny expression?

Suddenly, there was a tightening at his throat, making him gasp and sputter as his airway was cut off. Harry's hands went right to the snake's tail, pulling it away and finding he could breathe again. He took in great, big breaths, just trying to calm down. Everyone around the table was staring at him in shock.

"Are you OK?" Draco asked, his wand out and pointing Papa, his eyes shifting between Harry's face and the snake, watching for another attack.

Harry held out his hands in a calming gesture. "Wait. I'll see what's happening." He didn't particularly want anyone shooting at the snake and hitting him in error.

'What are you doing?!' he hissed, looking down at Papa.

She tilted her head and flicked her tongue. 'That man was trying to distract you. I could feel your reaction to him. I had to shake you out of it.'

'By choking me?' Harry hissed back.

'I'm a constrictor. It's what we do.'

Harry sighed. 'Thanks for the 'help', but next time just flick your tail against my chin or something. They almost hexed you into next week.'

'Yes, the man is very scared. He cares a lot about you. The others were mostly just amused.'

"She won't do that again," Harry told everyone, picking up his cards that had somehow landed facedown when he dropped them. He just wanted everyone to put down their wands and relax. Get back to the game. It was actually an excellent hand. "All in," Harry said, shoving all his poker chips into the centre pile.

"Woah, almost dying has made you more daring," Blaise said, chuckling as he pushed his chips forward.

Draco followed the motion. "Gryffindors. They are the risk takers, right?" He grinned at Blaise.

It was a tense moment when they laid down their cards. But as soon as he figured out he had the best hand, Harry was on his feet and laughing.

'You won! They are so mad!' Papa hissed in his ear.

Looking at the table, he could see five sets of eyes glaring at him, clearly not impressed at all. Even Draco seemed a little irked at Harry winning.

"Um, I'll just go put the snake back," Harry said, easing out of the room.

He settled Papa back in her terrarium. 'Thanks for helping me with the game. That was fun.'

'Perhaps we will do it again sometime,' she said, winding into an elegant coil. She seemed sleepy.

Harry stroked along her sleek back, and then returned to Draco. The chips and cards were all packed away. Draco handed him the galleons he had won.

"Well, it was nice playing cards with you all," Harry said awkwardly, glancing at the Slytherins.

"Same time, same place next week, Potter. I want a chance to win my gold back," Pansy hissed, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.

Harry glanced at Draco. "Um, sure, I guess we could play again."

The others were nodding in agreement. Draco took Harry's hand, leading him out of the club. Once outside, he tugged Harry close. "You were fantastic. You played them all, even me. Keeping us distracted by hissing at that snake the whole time. You've actually played poker before, right?"

"Um, no. Never," Harry fumbled to say, a bit distracted by Draco's words and his closeness. Fuck, he wanted to kiss him so much right now.

Draco leaned in, giving him a light kiss that was far too short. "So brilliant. They are going to be practicing all week, just so they can beat you next time." He seemed quite amused at that. "'Night, Harry."

And he was gone, apparated away, before Harry could hardly mumble goodbye.

...

"How many dates has it been now?" Ron asked, as he dealt out the cards.

Harry picked them up and grimaced. Nothing good. "Six! And I have no idea what to do next."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, you can't show your expressions so clearly when you look at your cards. Haven't you ever heard of a 'poker face'?"

"Poke Her Face?" Ron chuckled. "With what? A stick?"

"Poker face. It's a term I read about in 'The Theory of Poker'. Some players even wear sunglasses and baseball caps to hide their expressions," Hermione patiently explained, motioning for Ron to give her two new cards.

Ron matched her bet. "What did you do on the last couple dates?"

"I took him to the hospital to play with the kids, and to have coffee with Tatsuo. They got along well, but Draco was fantastic with the kids. Rolling around on the floor, building forts, and playing I Spy." Harry said as he raised another yellow chip.

"You call that a date?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded. "It's not exactly romantic, Harry. What did you do the next date?"

Harry squirmed in his chair. "We went to one of his work events. A debate."

He knew as soon as he said it that it sounded bad. But it had been a great night. They had sat together in the crowd, getting into the energy of the well-argued debate. The event was sold out like always, and everyone there seemed to hold strong opinions on the topic. It was about the magic of non-human species. Some agreed that only humans should have wands, and should remain in power. Others argued on the value of having more diverse representation in government.

Harry had experiences with house elves like Dobby, centaurs like Firenze, and goblins like Griphook. They were all sentient beings who deserved respect. He definitely leaned towards that side of the debate.

But what had made the event so special was sharing it with Draco. They had held hands most of the time, pressed together along one side, and Harry loved having him close. Smelling his cologne, watching his expressions, hearing him laugh. Occasionally, Draco leaned in to whisper comments in Harry's ear, the sensation so distracting he almost couldn't pay attention to what Draco said.

Afterwards, Harry had been at Draco's side as he shook hands with everyone on the panel, and then went out for drinks with Michael Corner, dissecting the whole event together, figuring out what went well, and what could go better. Seeing the inner workings of his business.

Ron and Hermione shared glances, practically communicating telepathically by now. They had been a couple so long.

"Do you want to be his friend, or something more?" Hermione finally asked.

Being around Draco so much these past few weeks had shown Harry more about the man than two months with him that summer. "I want more. I can't stop thinking about him."

Perhaps that was why he was having problems planning the next dates. He was running out of time. Draco seemed to be enjoying the dates, and they had shared quick kisses most nights. There seemed to be more touching, like Harry's back, his shoulder. Their legs in contact when they were sitting. And he loved holding hands.

Harry was going half crazy at night, fantasizing about what he wanted to do to Draco once the dates completed. Maybe they should take some time off and spend it in bed. Getting reacquainted in every way.

"Harry!" Ron said loudly, jarring him back to the present. "This game is over. You are useless tonight."

"Sorry! Sorry!" Harry said. "Let's continue. I promise I'll concentrate."

They played on, throwing out date ideas as they went. By the end of the night, Hermione had all the chips. But Harry had some good ideas. He felt nervous but excited.

...

-A/N: This fic is taking me different places then I expected at times. I had intended the story to be 25 chapters or less, but it is turning out to be longer. There are only two more chapters, and I’ll likely post the next one on Sunday. Thanks for reading!

-Fleamont Potter: According to Pottermore: “Fleamont was so called because it was the dying wish of Henry’s mother that he perpetuate her maiden name, which would otherwise die out. He bore the burden remarkably well; indeed, he always attributed his dexterity at duelling to the number of times he had to fight people at Hogwarts after they had made fun of his name. It was Fleamont who took the family gold and quadrupled it, by creating magical Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion ( ‘two drops tames even the most bothersome barnet’ ).” He died of dragon pox when James was only 19 years old, the year before Harry was born. 

-Marcus Flint: He attended Hogwarts from 1986-1994, sorted into Slytherin house. He was a Chaser in quidditch, becoming captain from 1991-1994, and letting Draco join the team in 1992 when his father bought them all Nimbus 2001 brooms. He had to repeat his last year, from failing his exams initially. 

-European Royalty and Haemophilia: “Haemophilia figured prominently in the history of European royalty in the 19th and 20th centuries. Britain's Queen Victoria, through two of her five daughters, Princess Alice and Princess Beatrice, passed the mutation to various royal houses across the continent, including the royal families of Spain, Germany and Russia. Victoria's son Prince Leopold, Duke of Albany also suffered from the disease. For this reason, haemophilia was once popularly called "the royal disease". (Wikipedia) 

-Haemophilia: “A mostly inherited genetic disorder that impairs the body's ability to make blood clots, a process needed to stop bleeding. This results in people bleeding longer after an injury, easy bruising, and an increased risk of bleeding inside joints or the brain. Those with a mild case of the disease may have symptoms only after an accident or during surgery. Bleeding into a joint can result in permanent damage while bleeding in the brain can result in long term headaches, seizures, or a decreased level of consciousness.” (Wikipedia). 

-Papuan olive python: This python is from New Guinea, and olive green in colour. Adults can grow to be 5 meters (17 feet) long, but are lighter-bodied than other pythons, rarely weighing more than 22 kg (50 lbs). They are not common in exotic pet trade, but are hardy enough to adapt well to captivity, being fed commercially available rats. Like all pythons, they are non-venomous, grasping prey with their teeth and wrapping a few coils around it, and death is caused by cardiac arrest, not from being crushed. 

-Snake Tongue: “The tongue is flicked out of the mouth regularly to sample the chemical environment. This form of chemical sampling allows these animals to sense non-volatile chemicals, which cannot be detected by simply using the olfactory system. This increased ability to sense chemicals has allowed for heightened abilities to identify prey, recognize kin, choose mates, locate shelters, follow trails, and more.” (Wikipedia). In this story, Papa’s is using this sense to help Harry. 


	26. Chapter 26

Harry paced outside Tempest Books, his tension mounting as he looked over at the clock on a nearby tower. Was Draco going to be late? He tugged at the bottom of his suit jacket, making sure it was sitting right. Just wanting to look good.

"Evening, Potter," Draco drawled, as he strolled to Harry's side. He looked great, dressed in dark grey suit with a lilac colored dress shirt underneath. His collar was unbuttoned, no tie around his neck, drawing Harry's eyes to the bare skin there. A place he had liked to kiss.

Draco was doing his share of looking as well. Harry had bought a new suit in dark burgundy, pairing it with a crisp white dress shirt and a narrow black tie. It was nicely tailored, but not as tight as some of the suits he had worn when going out with Draco in the summer. He felt good in it.

"Um, yes...well, we better get going," Harry pulled himself out of looking at Draco, and took his hand. It had become an almost constant thing on their dates now, something that still delighted Harry. He tugged Draco down the street, walking fast.

Draco kept up easily, matching his stride to Harry's. "Are you finally going to tell me where we are going?"

Grinning over at Draco, Harry shook his head. He had only told him to dress nice, not wanting to spoil the surprise. This was their seventh date, and Harry wanted to step things up a little.

At the end of Diagon Alley was a small park. Harry stopped on a patch of grass, and turned to face Draco. Reaching into the inside breast pocket of his suit, he pulled out a stainless steel pen. He glanced back at the clock tower. "Grab hold of the other end of this," Harry instructed firmly.

Draco did what he asked, realization dawning on his face.

A couple seconds later, they felt like they were being yanked forward by a big hook, spinning through space, a breathless few moments before they got to their destination.

They were standing behind a dark stone church, with tall buildings surrounding them on all sides. Sounds of a busy city took over their senses; traffic, people talking, and construction. It was bright and sunny, but about the same temperature as London.

Before Draco could ask more questions, Harry pocketed the pen and took Draco's hand again, leading him around the church and out on to a street. He turned left, confidently steering them around other pedestrians.

They passed many apartment buildings and businesses, and Harry could tell Draco was trying to figure out where they were.

"Definitely a big city, American..." Draco said, almost to himself.

Harry spotted the red awnings he had been watching for, and might have given Draco's hand a small squeeze of excitement.

It made Draco's gaze sharpen, looking around even more closely. "Broadway Kitchens and Baths..." he read aloud, from a business at the intersection they were approaching. "Broadway... We are in New York!"

Harry nodded happily at Draco, glad that he had been able to give him a good surprise. "Just for the night. I'll have you back home at a decent hour."

"Maybe I'd prefer an indecent hour..." Draco said softly, so Harry wasn't sure he heard him right. Glancing quickly his way, Draco only smirked at him, unrepentant.

Rolling his eyes at that, Harry tugged Draco across the street at the corner. "Our first stop is right here."

Draco looked up at the red awnings along the building, and he looked truly shocked. "The Strand? This is so great," he sighed, seeming frozen on the spot.

Grinning, Harry followed his gaze. The sandstone building was about ten stories tall, with simple, clean lines. The red awning had the store's logo interspersed with 'Old, Rare, New', '18 Miles of Books', and 'Where Books Are Loved' stretching down it's length.

Tugging Draco forward again, Harry lead them inside, and then let Draco's hand go. Just stepping back to take him in as he explored the store for the first time. He trailed behind Draco, wanting to just share this with him. Chuckled when Draco spotted the staircase, and turned to Harry with a delighted look.

"There are three and a half floors," Harry smirked back, knowing he had been wise to give them a few hours to explore the store.

It was brightly lit, and well organized, but a bit overwhelming. Bookshelves stretched eight feet in the air, with stools nearby for shoppers to access the highest books. Harry simply snagged a red shopping basket, and started taking the books from Draco as he shopped.

By the time they had reached the top floor, Harry had already passed two full baskets to staff to place on hold at the checkout. He was relieved to see this was the half floor, and there was a leather wingback chair he could sit on as Draco explored.

This was the rare book area, with many first editions and books signed by authors. Draco got into a deep discussion with an older woman who worked there, and she could tell he was a bibliophile, her dark eyes sparking with mutual passion. She pulled out their most valuable books, and Draco handled them like priceless jewels. Harry was drawn to his side, curious at what had Draco so enraptured.

"It's James Joyce's Ulysses, signed by him, with illustrations done by Henri Matisse," Draco told Harry softly, flipping to the signed page.

The staff member chuckled. "But Joyce refused to sign any after he realized that Matisse had done his drawings based on the roman myth instead of his novel."

Draco shared a warm glance with her. "A little different than Dublin of 1904."

There were another two full shopping baskets by then. "We better get going soon," Harry said regretfully. "Can we get the books shipped to the UK?"

Draco's new best friend, Linda, soon had them in an elevator to the ground floor, and helped with the completion of the sale. Harry was a bit amused that Draco had a muggle credit card, listing his name as 'Drake Malloy', and arranged for the boxes to be sent care of a flat at his old muggle address. It reminded Harry that Draco had lived amongst muggles for many years, and probably even had a friendly neighbor or two.

...

It was good to sit back, sipping cocktails, and looking out over Central Park. The trees were changing into their fall colors, green mixed with gold, orange and scarlet. The large windows of the restaurant gave a wide, unobstructed view.

The local time was about 4 pm, so the place was only a third full. It was almost 9 pm in the UK, so Harry and Draco were hungry, devouring butternut squash soup, Blue Bay mussels, and Black Angus beef.

Harry enjoyed the attentive service and elegant, modern decor. The tables had white tablecloths, and the chairs were upholstered in bright colors like orange, magenta and teal. It was nice to be treated with respect, but not being recognized. Their server just saw them as an affluent gay couple, based on their clothes and the way they interacted.

When Draco ordered a second cocktail, Harry changed it to a coffee, resting his hand on top of his. "Trust me, you will want to be alert and thinking straight for the rest of the night," Harry said, deliberately keeping Draco guessing.

"Hmmmm...a Thursday night in Manhattan. What could we possibly be doing next?" Draco pondered, sipping his Americano.

Harry just gave a small shrug, and paid the bill with cash, the foreign muggle currency seeming quite odd. "I will only tell you that we will have to go in about ten minutes." It was only a half hour subway ride away, but he wanted to be a little early.

The date had been going well so far, but he still felt unsure about Draco. Even six dates done, they were still learning a lot about each other. It showed how little they had shared of themselves in the spring, or even during their summer of sex. They hadn't delved into the harder topics back then, perhaps for fear of screwing things up when it was already so tenuous. Plus, Harry had been more in his 'pleaser' mode, trying to be who Draco wanted instead of being himself. It was harder being himself now, but felt better afterwards.

...

Holding hands as they walked out of the subway station, Harry looked up at the new World Trade Centre buildings. The tallest tower was surrounded by several other skyscrapers, and Harry guided Draco to one of the newest ones.

Draco was looking around, trying to figure it out, seeing nicely dressed muggles heading the same direction they were. It was around 7 pm, local time.

Harry had a small smile on his face as he watched Draco, wanting to see his expression when he had figured it out. He had been around muggles a lot this last decade. Had he heard of this event?

They eventually passed a poster with the event details, and Draco stopped to read it. "TEDx New York?"

"TED stands for Technology, Entertainment and Design. These talks have been going on around the world for about 30 years," Harry explained softly, seeing that Draco wasn't familiar with them.

Draco was nodding slowly, taking it in. "Ideas worth spreading," he read the slogan from the poster.

Harry squeezed his hand. "It's a little like Stormcloud, giving a forum for ideas to be presented. The speakers have about fifteen minutes each to present their talk. In the past, they have had Nobel prize winners, Bill Clinton, Bono, Bill Gates...but I don't think there is any there is anyone that famous at this one."

Looking a little intrigued, Draco went along as Harry found their seats in the large, posh theatre. It was sold out, filled mostly of muggles in their thirties or older, talking in hushed tones amongst themselves. The stage had a large white screen, a red circular mat in the centre, and on one side, 'TEDxNew York' spelled out in large wooden letters, about four feet high.

Each speaker came on to the stage to polite applause, standing on the red mat as they launched into their talk. Usually, they held a small device in one hand, clicking it to change the image on the large screen behind them to show still muggle photographs or charts of data. The speeches were engaging and well-delivered, a tight fifteen minutes where they seduced the attentive audience with their expertise in their chosen topic.

Harry glanced often at Draco, and could tell he was enjoying it. They were holding hands, as they usually did now on dates. Draco was focussed, listening attentively, laughing along with the audience. Some things were very muggle-centric, and Harry was a bit confused, being away from that world for most of the last decade.

The second last speaker was a tall, black man in his fifties, with a shaved head and wearing a grey suit. He spoke about growing up poor in New York, in Harlem and the Bronx, and how he was taught that "men had to be tough, had to be strong, had to be courageous, dominating - no pain, no emotions, with the exception of anger - and definitely no fear."

Harry could feel an instant reaction in Draco, the way he slightly tensed up, his breathing shallow, as the speaker carried on, talking passionately about stories from his youth. About how it affected how he treated his own son when he was crying.

"I would find myself saying things like, 'Just go in your room. Just go on, go on in your room. Sit down, get yourself together and come back and talk to me when you can talk to me like a man. And he's five years old..."

At those words, Draco let go of Harry's hand, and reached into his breast pocket to pull out a handkerchief. Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as Draco lifted the folded material to his eyes, and felt his heart going out to him. He wanted to comfort him, but didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable either.

The speaker was talking about hard things he had faced growing up, including being called into an empty apartment by an older boy and being encouraged to have sex with a naked girl in his bedroom. He was only twelve at the time. Trapped in the bedroom, he saw it was a girl who was mentally challenged, and likely didn't know what was going on. Other boys he knew were outside, waiting their turn, and he was more worried about how to get out of there without losing face in front of them than helping the girl. He ended up unzipping his jeans, and then zipped them up as he left the bedroom, acting like he had been with the girl.

At this story, Draco turned his face away from Harry, and was pressing the crumpled handkerchief against his face, partially hiding it.

Harry could tell he was losing it, and settled a comforting hand on his shoulder, feeling startled at the way he was shaking. "Let's get out of here. Go outside," he whispered, leaning close. Feeling awful that he had exposed Draco to this talk that was distressing him so much.

"No," Draco whispered harshly, straightening up in his chair and steeling himself. Impatiently running the handkerchief over his face, and then clenching it in his fist. He watched the rest of the talk, not responding to the small jokes that the speaker had put in to lighten things up.

Thankfully, the talk was only about ten minutes long, ending with the speaker explaining how he wants the definition of men to change, to allow men to have feelings and emotions. When the man thanked the audience and bowed, most of the crowd got to their feet to applaud him, to thank him for speaking so openly about difficult topics.

There was another speaker still due to come out, but Harry grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him out of the hall, right to the outside of the building. It was fully dark in the courtyard, and mostly empty. Harry continued to pull Draco until they were close to one of the memorial reflecting pools, and sat them down on a low concrete block.

Draco was still trying to hold back his emotions, his breathing faster. Harry wrapped an arm over his shoulders to pull him close, to comfort him, and was alarmed to feel the way he was shuddering. Turning towards him, Harry hugged him fully, his arms wrapping around him tightly.

Sinking against Harry, Draco dropped his face to his shoulder. Harry simply stroked soothingly over his back, not sure what else to do. It was a few moments before he realized Draco was crying softly, and his heart went out to him.

Knowing he needed this, Harry simply held Draco, wanting to take all his pain away. His own eyes were welling up, and he nuzzled against Draco's bent head, his silky blond hair soft against his cheek. Nothing existed in this world beyond this man in his arms. No one else.

Gradually, Draco calmed, his breathing more even, the tension easing out of him. Harry continued to hold him, but became more aware of the courtyard around them. The wind blowing gently through the leaves of all the trees around them. The constant sound of the water falling into the reflecting pools soothing.

When Draco pulled back, Harry reached into his pocket for his own handkerchief. Draco's had been dropped somewhere as they left the theatre. Accepting it, Draco dried his face, and blew his nose, giving Harry a weak smile afterwards. "I'm sure I look really great right now."

Harry gave a half smile in return, his hand cupping Draco's cheek. "Never more gorgeous." He leaned in, letting their lips lightly touch, unable to resist. Feeling so much for this man.

Draco's hand went into Harry's hair, not letting him pull back, continuing the kiss. It was the longest kiss they had shared since starting these dates, with most evenings just ending with a quick goodnight one. Harry savoured it, keeping it soft and light, even though his heart was pounding in his chest.

They paused to catch their breath, their gaze held for a few seconds, and Harry moved back, taking Draco's hand. "That last talk…what made you so upset about it?" It was a hard question to ask, but he just had to know.

Taking a deep breath, Draco looked toward the fountain as he thought of how to answer. "The way he talked about the way he was raised…it reminded me a lot of my father, my parents. Being proud of our lineage, of being pureblood. About how we were superior to muggles and mudbloods." He said the word mockingly, as he knew now how offensive the word was. "I was expected to be strong, a leader. Good in sports and school. Expected to marry a woman my family approved of, to carry on the family line with honour."

Harry nodded, but stayed silent, letting him think. Giving him space to talk.

"The way he talked about that girl in the bedroom…that reminded me of being around the Deatheaters, around Voldemort. Everyone doing horrible things, and no one challenging the group, just going along with it...," Draco said softly, clearly ashamed. Conflicted.

"Did you ever… do bad things to muggles?" Harry asked, taking the opportunity to clear the air. It was time to talk about the past.

Draco shook his head quickly. "No, no…I was treated like a 'Deatheater in training' mostly, being younger than everyone else. When I was at the Manor, I mostly got away with standing at the back, trying not to get noticed. Following orders to take food to the prisoners, and doing grunt work like that. But I saw awful things being done, heard them talking about things, and never spoke up."

Harry squeezed his hand. "I know you didn't have a lot of choices. Your parents were under his control, so you had to follow orders. But I did think you were very brave when they asked you to identify me, and you didn't. That saved my life, right there."

Scoffing, Draco glanced at him, and then away. "And you saved me from that fire."

"But I almost killed you with that damn spell," Harry said, hanging his head. It was hard to think back on those times, of how he had let his suspicions about Draco get to that point.

Draco was the one to comfort Harry now, wrapping his arm over his shoulder to pull him closer. "Do you think we can ever truly forgive and forget all that?"

Harry nodded, their gaze meeting and holding. "I forgive you, but I don't think either of us will ever forget it all. But I think we can move on, don't you?"

Pressing his lips together tightly, Draco looked up at the trees. "I hope so. I've tried to undo the indoctrination from my childhood with reading widely, and being open to new ideas. Tried to become a better man. But sometimes I worry that I'm just too broken to ever be really fixed."

"You are _not_ too broken," Harry said fiercely, and hugged Draco tight. Draco didn't reply, just staying quiet and hugging Harry back.

Eventually people started streaming out of the building, and walking through the courtyard. Smoking, talking, laughing. Going to the reflecting pools to admire them, lights illuminating the falling water. The event must have ended.

Harry and Draco pulled apart, and stood, walking hand in hand to look down at the memorial. The large square was surrounded by a wide bronze parapet, inscribed with the names of all the people who died in the 9/11 attacks. Inside, water flowed over a two foot wide ledge, falling straight down 30 feet to a flat basin, and flowing down into a smaller square hole. Another pool was where the other twin tower had stood, it's cascading waters a softer echo.

The plaza was planted with hundreds of trees, still mostly green and full of leaves, but some showing the first tints of fall colours. It was a place of quiet reflection, with many of the native New Yorkers and tourists taking the time to pause before they walked on.

Harry had done a lot of research about New York when planning this trip, and he remembered something suddenly. He looked around a little, and then tugged Draco across the courtyard to stand in front of a tree that had guard rails around its base. "This tree was discovered amongst the rubble of the destroyed buildings, with broken branches and snapped roots. With a lot of time to recover, it was replanted here a few years later. And every spring, it is full of beautiful white flowers."

"That smell like spunk," an old woman near them scoffed, with a thick Bronx accent. "Awful things, those Callery pear trees." She walked off then, her navy trench coat swaying in the light breeze.

Harry and Draco stared after her in shock, and then looked at each other. A second later, they were both laughing hard, a welcome release from the emotions of the night.

"Um, should we just mark that comment as a 'typical New Yorker' and forget about it?" Harry said as they walked back to the subway entrance, hand in hand.

Draco chuckled. "You know, you should plant some more trees around Grimmauld Place. Maybe I should get you one, something that would remind you of me every spring…"

…

-A/N: I hope you liked their New York date. I wanted Harry to pick things he knows Draco would enjoy, to show how well he is getting to know him. Lots of notes for this one, which you are welcome to skip if they aren’t your thing. Only one chapter left! 

-Strand Books: The store was started as an used bookstore in 1927 by a 25 year old, Ben Bass. “An entrepreneur at heart and a reader by nature, this erudite man began with $300 dollars of his own and $300 dollars that he borrowed from a friend. Ben sought to create a place where books would be loved, and book lovers could congregate. He named his bookstore after the London street where avant-garde writers like Thackeray, Dickens and Mill once gathered and interesting book publishers thrived.” His son Fred moved it to its current location in 1957, and his granddaughter Nancy runs it now. There are 2.5 million used, new and rare books (over 18 miles) to explore. Website is [here.](https://www.strandbooks.com/about-strand-books/)

-Robert restaurant: “Atop The Museum of Arts and Design at Columbus Circle, Robert is a classic modern American restaurant offering breathtaking views of Central Park and Columbus Circle. Elegant, sexy, and romantic, Robert celebrates design, beauty and culinary delights. Dine on a menu created by Chef Gonzalo Colin or simply sip signature cocktails while you watch the sunset and revel in the beauty of the city.” Link is [here.](http://www.robertnyc.com)

-TED Talks: “TED was born in 1984 out of Richard Saul Wurman's observation of a powerful convergence among three fields: technology, entertainment and design.” It started as a one-off event, and actually lost money. It was tried again in 1990, becoming an annual event since then. “Meanwhile the roster of presenters broadened to include scientists, philosophers, musicians, business and religious leaders, philanthropists and many others. For many attendees, TED became one of the intellectual and emotional highlights of the year.” In 2009, TEDx was created, a radical opening up of the TED format to local, independently organized events. The TED Talks videos are available on their website for free, and reached a billion views in 2012. Website link is [here.](https://www.ted.com/talks)

-Tony Porter: I took some artistic license and had Tony Porter’s talk, ‘A Call to Men’ from 2010 at this TEDx in New York. Tony is an educator and activist for ending violence against women, and I thought Draco would relate to his message of breaking out of the unhealthy socialization of his childhood. The video of his talk has over 2.7 million views. Link is [here.](https://www.ted.com/talks/tony_porter_a_call_to_men/up-next)

-World Trade Centre: “The new World Trade Center is a sprawling 16 acre mixed-used environment composed of 5 iconic office towers… an 8-acre Memorial Plaza… and over half a million square feet of shopping and dining.” Harry & Draco attend the TED Talk in 3 WTC, an 80 story building that opened in June 2018. I found a TEDx talk that was scheduled for that building in my research, but couldn’t find it when looking for it now. 

-The National September 11 Memorial: On the sites where the Twin Towers once stood, there is a tribute of remembrance and honor to the 2,977 people killed in the terror attacks of September 11, 2001. The twin reflecting pools are each nearly an acre in size and feature the largest manmade waterfalls in North America. The names of every person who died in the attacks are inscribed into bronze panels edging the Memorial pools. 3 minute video is [here.](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=-gDp17QaMg8)

-Survivor Tree: A Callery pear tree became known as the "Survivor Tree", discovered at Ground Zero severely damaged, with snapped roots and burned and broken branches. It was removed to recover, and returned to the Memorial in 2010. “New, smooth limbs extended from the gnarled stumps, creating a visible demarcation between the tree’s past and present. Today, the tree stands as a living reminder of resilience, survival and rebirth.” Link [here.](https://www.911memorial.org/survivor-tree)

-Callery Pear Trees (Bradford Pear): I researched this type of tree to see if it gave fruit, but a google search gave results like ‘A Bad, Bad Plant with Pretty Flowers’, and ‘Scientists Thought They Had Created the Perfect Tree, But It Became A Nightmare’. Originally from China, millions were planted all over the US. But by the 1990’s, “it turned from thornless to spiky, limber to brittle, chaste to promiscuous, tame to feral. Most of all, it became invasive.” Link [here.](https://www.google.ca/amp/s/www.washingtonpost.com/amphtml/lifestyle/magazine/how-we-turned-the-bradford-pear-into-a-monster/2018/09/14/f29c8f68-91b6-11e8-b769-e3fff17f0689_story.html)  
Also in the google search were things like ‘Why do trees smell like sperm?’ Link [here.](https://www.theawl.com/2013/04/your-street-probably-smells-like-semen-right-now-but-it-might-not-next-spring/) I mean no disrespect to the ‘Survivor Tree’ at the WTC Memorial, but I found it amusing that this type of beautiful flowering tree does not smell pleasant (like rotting fish or semen). I don’t think most straight-talking New Yorkers would shy from making a comment similar to the one in the story. 


	27. Chapter 27

After the New York date, Harry went back to a safer option. something less likely to stir up old emotions.

It was odd to be back in dress robes, something he used to wear so often, but hadn't since his own gala. The night Draco had agreed to the nine dates. Giving them another chance at getting this right after so many fucked up attempts.

This was the eighth date, the second last one. Had he done enough to give them a solid foundation? Could they have a good relationship going forward? Was Harry still caught in his abandonment thinking, doing anything to just keep Draco around? Blind to his faults, desperate to be together even if it was toxic?

Even in his limited experience, Harry had to say they had given these dates a fair shot. Used the time to get to truly know each other, the real Draco and Harry, below the public image and the haze of their shared past.

Beyond still being strongly physically attracted to Draco, Harry knew his feelings for the man had deepened. He loved his intelligence, his passion for books and ideas, and his drive to share that with the public. To make a positive difference in the world. He saw his remorse for his past, the bullying, narrow-mindedness, and everything he had been drawn into as the war became inevitable. He had survived it, and worked hard to change.

At the core of the man, there was intelligence and humour, and a good heart that he learned to follow. He had fought his demons in sixth year, facing the horrible task he had been assigned, and his failure to kill Dumbledore had been a watershed moment.

Harry had no more doubts about Draco as a man. The thing that made his hands shake as he pulled on his dress shoes and took in his reflection, attempting to smooth down his unruly hair, was his doubts that Draco had the same types of feelings about him. Was there more than liking each other? Lust? A shared past? Was there enough there to keep them together after the last date?

Knowing it was useless to delay, Harry apparated to the exterior of a fancy hotel. Draco was already there, and he straightened as he spotted Harry, a smile of greeting spreading slowly over his handsome face.

He returned the smile without conscious thought, running his eyes over Draco approaching him in impeccable dress robes, looking so gorgeous Harry felt a bit breathless.

"Hi," he said softly, his voice breathier than he expected.

Draco's lips tightened into a slight teasing smirk. "Hi, yourself. You look good."

The words were surprising to hear, but started a warm glow deep inside Harry. He held out his hand towards Draco. "Ready to go in?"

Taking his hand, Draco allowed Harry to guide him inside the crowded hotel lobby. Paparazzi were taking pictures and interviewing the prominent attendees, and Harry was relaxed as he posed with Draco, and they both answered their share of questions. Deflecting anything too personal with a neutral 'No Comment'.

Soon enough, they were guided to their table, sharing it with Ron, Hermione, Arthur and Molly. Harry was happy to see Draco was greeted just as warmly as he was by everyone.

"Fred and Ginny are running a bit late," Molly said, nodding towards to the two empty chairs at their table.

Ron was sitting to Harry's left, and he leaned his shoulder against him for a moment. "Do you have a speech prepared?"

Flushing slightly, Ron gave a quick nod. He looked nervous, and grabbed his water glass to gulp half of it down.

"He's been practicing it in front of the bathroom mirror for weeks, but hasn't let me hear it yet," Hermione said, giving her fiancé a fond look, and taking his hand with her's.

"It doesn't have to be anything very long, son. Just thank your boss and the other aurors. And say you wouldn't be the man you are today without your father," Arthur teased, holding up his wine glass to toast him before taking a sip.

Harry glanced towards Draco, checking in to see if he was bored by all this family talk, but he smiled reassuringly at Harry. They were still holding hands, and Harry gave his a light squeeze.

Harry had attended many other galas in this ballroom of the hotel, but it seemed so much better surrounded by people he cared about so much. His best friends from Hogwarts, and the older couple who had basically become his adopted parents. Holding hands with a man who had come to mean so much to him in this last year.

The other tables were full of aurors and their significant others, the ministry officials, and the rich and powerful of the wizarding world. A string quartet played classical music, the lights around the beautiful room a little dim, setting off the candles twinkling at each table.

The head table was on a dias, and Harry saw Matilda Dankworth rise from it to walk over to the podium. She was dressed in an elegant deep red gown, her silver hair in an updo. Magical lights shone on her brightly, and the crowd turned their attention towards her as the music ended.

"Welcome to the Annual Auror Ball. We will take this time to honor our best, celebrate those who have retired from service, and let you know our innovative solutions coming up for the next year to allow everyone to continue to sleep soundly every night."

Harry felt a surge of emotions as his former boss continued her speech. Working as an auror had been a huge part of his life for so many years, and he suddenly missed it intensively. His eyes went from table to table, looking at each auror, remembering working at their sides, supporting each other in difficult situations. The whole stronger than each single part. He was proud of his work, knew he had made a difference.

"For going above and beyond the call of duty, Ron Weasley!"

Hearing Ron's name being announced pulled Harry back. He stood up, applauding with everyone else at their table, as Ron flushed with pleasure, his smile wide. He looked quickly around the table, basking in the pride and love, and moved quickly up to the stage. Matilda presented him with a plaque, shaking his hand enthusiastically, leaning closer to congratulate him.

The whole hall was applauding him, and Harry could only feel intensely happy his best friend was getting the accolades he richly deserved. Harry had received many such recognitions at other balls of the past, but somehow this meant more to him.

As they sat back down and the speeches continued, Draco took Harry's hand, giving it a warm squeeze. Glancing his way, Harry saw that he had been touched by Ron's award.

By the time the dinner and speeches were done, Harry had enjoyed three glasses of wine. He hadn't been drinking as much lately, and found he was pleasantly relaxed and feeling good.

Many people were coming up to the table to congratulate Ron, and Harry thought it would be best to move away, give him his moment. Let him enjoy it.

"Draco, there's a few people I'd like you to meet," Harry said, as a plausible excuse to leave the table. But as they walked around, he found it was true.

Approaching a table with many of the youngest aurors with his arm slung along Draco's lower back, Harry smiled warmly at Nathaniel and Folade. He introduced them.

"Draco, I can't tell you how many mornings I had to listen to these two rehashing the previous night's Stormcloud debate," Harry said with a smile at all three of them.

"We still do that!" Folade smirked. "I think the best one lately was if love was simply due to chemicals in the brain."

Harry turned to Draco, giving him an inquiring look. "I must have missed hearing about it. What was the consensus?"

"They play a role, like why some animals mate for life. They have higher levels of certain a 'love hormone' than similar animals with multiple partners," Nathaniel jumped in to say.

Draco shrugged a shoulder. "But it's not like muggles have discovered a love potion. That hormone can't make you fall in love with someone."

Harry listened as the aurors debated with Draco in a friendly way, and he easily countered their arguments. He knew his stuff.

It was like that at most tables, his old friends greeting Harry warmly, but getting into intense discussions with Draco about the debates, books they had read from his store, or giving him suggestions for future events.

He handled it with aplomb, his business acumen on full display as he charmed everyone. He listened attentively, and encouraged them all to come to the store. Many gave him their business card.

Watching Draco, Harry was struck how far they had both come. Was it just in the spring they were both in the closet, and Draco wouldn't show his face in wizarding areas? Here they were, comfortably appearing together as a couple, and getting a warm reception from the most influential people in their society.

"Harry," a woman nearby said, and he turned to see Matilda Dankworth. "Can we talk privately for a moment?"

It was a little startling to have her speaking calmly with him like that. Harry could remember that last confrontation in her office, and the way she had suspended him. It still irked him.

Draco seemed involved talking with a couple people, so Harry quietly excused himself, and followed Matilda over to a window, looking out into the dark night. They were far enough from others to not be overheard.

"I have bern following what you have been doing in the papers. Your charity, and everything," her eyes flicked back to Draco, before meeting Harry's again, her gaze as direct as ever. "You have been keeping busy."

Nodding, his smile was a bit stiff. In the back of his mind, he knew coming to this event to support Ron would bring him close to former colleagues, some he wanted to see, others who would stir up a lot from his past.

"I want you to come back," Matilda said, her forthrightness something Harry had liked in the past.

A dozen emotions swirled through Harry. Pleased at being valued by this powerful woman, pride in his auror work, the pull of being part of the close knit team again, partnering again with Ron. So many things he could admit to himself that he missed.

But the negative feelings were there too. The gnawing dread on entering a crime scene, seeing people hurt or killed. Blood splashed across the floor. Telling family members about a death. Seeing criminals getting away.

That old tension was back, and he could feel his breathing was faster. He tried to remember Dr. Mendosa's advice, what to do when he felt like this, but his mind was blanking.

But then there was a warm arm circling his waist, pulling him back against a solid chest. His scent, his presence, seeped through Harry and he felt he could breathe a little easier.

"Shall we go dance? I feel like we haven't had a moment alone with you all night," Draco said softly near his ear.

Harry stroked along the arm around his waist, and looked up over his shoulder. "That sounds nice." Anything to get away from everything else for a while. Just be in a tiny bubble where it was just the two of them.

"Wait," Matilda said firmly, and her hand clasped Harry's wrist, keeping him from moving away.

Draco looked down at her hand, and then glared at the woman. Harry could sense him tensing, not backing down.

But Matilda looked away first, her eyes going to Harry, her grip still firm. "When I said I want you to come back, I didn't necessarily mean as an auror."

That didn't make any sense, and Harry stopped trying to pull away. He could have easily broken out of her hold, but didn't want to make a scene. "Not as an auror?"

She dropped her hand now, knowing she had hooked him enough to hear her out. "We have enough aurors, Harry. But what we missed when you were gone was your expertise. I would like you back, either to use your training skills with new aurors, or your investigative skills on cold cases."

He stepped back, just needing time to process this. In the meantime, Draco's arm came around his shoulders, and drew him away. "He will consider your offer and let you know. Goodnight."

Matilda nodded at that, her face conflicted, and Harry knew she wanted to push her ideas more, convince him to accept. But she glanced up at Draco, and whatever she saw in her expression had her stepping back as well. "Thank you. I'm available anytime if you have questions."

Harry felt relieved when he was well away from her, in Draco's arms, and moving across the dance floor. Nearby Ginny was dancing with George, and Hermione was draped around Ron, looking a little tipsy. He let everything fall away, and just concentrated on the music and being close to this man he cared about so much.

"Those are pretty intriguing offers," Draco murmured softly.

Pulled out of his happy place, Harry leaned back to look at Draco. "Are you kidding me? You were the one encouraging me to quit."

"Harry," Draco said, stroking his hand over his back in a calming gesture. "Isn't it time you took a good, long look at your old job? Sure, there are parts you've had enough of, but those roles seem to focus on the parts you really enjoy."

Turning his face to rest it against Draco's shoulder, he thought about it. He had loved training his classmates for the DA, seeing their progress and the way they grew more confident.

But investigative work was satisfying too. Collecting all the information and piecing together the puzzle, little by little. And cold cases had the advantage of cooler emotions. The crime scenes had been analyzed and cleaned up, the family members were over the initial shock and grief. Sometimes a little time passing made new facts bubble up.

Draco chuckled when the song ended and they walked back to their table, hand in hand. "Perhaps we should call it a night. I'm a little tired from talking with so many people, and I can tell you have a lot to mull over."

Harry couldn't deny it, and he walked with Draco into the hotel lobby, where there was a series of fireplaces flashing green with floo powder as tipsy guests took this safer way home.

Pulling him off into a quiet side passage, Harry pushed Draco up against the wall. All night, he had been the perfect date, chatting with Arthur about living amongst muggles, giving Ron a hearty back slap of congratulations, and debating quidditch animatedly with Ginny and George. Being his most charming self as Harry greeted other people at the ball, seeming pleased when Harry proudly told them Draco owned Tempest Books. Loved seeing the way people lit up, discussing their favorite books with him or suggesting Stormcloud topics. Even with Dankworth, Draco had been there when Harry needed support.

"Have I told you lately how fucking amazing you are?" Harry said softly, and loved the way Draco's fair skin flushed slightly, his lips pulling into a small pleased smile.

Too, too much to resist. Harry leaned in, kissing Draco thoroughly. Showing him when words just didn't seem enough.

Draco hands were instantly on Harry's back, pulling him in closer, kissing him back just as enthusiastically.

"Excuse me," a male voice said firmly, and Harry dragged his head up to see a uniformed hotel employee with a small cart trying to pass by them.

They jumped apart, standing against the wall to allow him to pass, and then looked at each other, chuckling.

"Just one more date," Draco said, his eyes glowing with banked heat.

Harry nodded, and pulled Draco back into the main hallway before he attacked him again. "One more."

With a quick goodbye kiss, Draco was whisked away in a flash of green

...

Heart thumping, Harry tied the blindfold around Draco's head.

"This is quite the turnabout. Didn't we start all this with me tying you up and putting the blindfold on you?" Draco smirked.

Chuckling, Harry took in the beautiful man standing before him. Draco was dressed more casually, as Harry had requested, with a thick moss green sweater and dark jeans. A colourful knit scarf was knotted around his neck. It was hard to resist stealing a kiss.

Taking a spoon out of his pocket, Harry pressed it against Draco's hand, glad when he trustingly grasped it. Harry held the other end and glanced at the clock tower.

Minutes later, Harry was shoving the spoon back in his pocket, and guiding Draco over the rocky, uneven ground. Already, he feared his surprise was spoiled, as even without visual clues, the caw of sea gulls and the cool salt air surrounding them.

It had taken a lot of work to get everything just perfect, and he led Draco through the doorway, and closed it behind them, before finally pulling the strings on the back of the blindfold.

The dark fabric fell away, and Draco looked truly shocked. He eyes travelled over the fireplace, bright with a crackling fire, to the small table set with a tablecloth and elegant place settings for two. The scent of lamb stew filled the air. Lastly, his eyes scanned over the full bookcases, and he stepped closer to one, lifting a shaking hand to glide along their spines, like he was checking they were really there.

He turned to Harry, his eyes wide. "How did you-" he started, "Why- when did you..."

Guiding Draco over to the sofa, they sat, and Harry turned to face him. "We are alike in a lot of ways. So many similar experiences, like Hogwarts, playing seeker in quidditch, the war, and dealing with the aftermath of all that."

Harry had practiced what he would say, again and again, and appreciated that Draco stayed quiet, knowing he had more to say. He took Draco's hand in his, just needing the contact. "We don't have a lot of family anymore. I know your mother is settled in Switzerland with no plans to return, and that you will see her when you can.

"I inherited Grimmauld Place from Sirius, and even though he's gone, it's still a link to him, my family, and I have made it my own." Turning Draco's hand over, he traced along the faint lines on his palm. "This cottage could be a link like that to your family, to your book-mad great uncle. A place to just get away to be near the sea, and cuddle up in front of a fire with a stack of books."

"You bought this for me?" Draco said, flummoxed. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Draco at such a loss for words, just looking around, taking it all in.

Harry let it all sink in, but had to get the rest of his prepared speech out before he forgot it or lost his nerve. "Look, I know I have enjoyed these nine dates, getting to know the real you, the way you are now. Spending time doing more low-key things. I know I'll probably be a public figure for the rest of my life, but I don't want a public life. I want to work, do charity stuff, have a big gala annually to raise funds, and spend lots of time with friends. I'm really dreadfully dull and you probably regret agreeing to those dates now."

Draco was smirking a little, but his eyes were warm. And he hadn't let go of Harry's hand. He took that as a good sign and pushed on, his Gryffindor bravery being tested.

"Um, so, the dates are done now, and you are under no obligation to ever see me again. I give you this cottage, and hope you enjoy it, no strings attached." Harry finished, almost out of breath.

His heart pounding, barely breathing, Harry waited. How would Draco respond to all this? Be insulted and insist Harry leave? Leave himself and reject the whole gesture? Or would he get what Harry was trying to do? He bit his lower lip to keep quiet, to stop himself from babbling on out of pure nerves.

"You said the dates are over now, right?" Draco finally drawled, his silver eyes glinting in the firelight.

Before he knew it, Draco sprung forward, pushing Harry backwards on the sofa. His hands were deep in Harry's hair, kissing his hard and deep, almost desperately. Harry moaned, hugging Draco closer, a burst of pure joy racing through him.

It was a jumbled mess of greedy kisses and eager hands, pushing clothes out of the way to have access to delicious bare skin. Harry shifted, spreading his bent legs, so Draco was cradled between them, and they both moaned at the closer contact. Silver eyes met green as Draco rocked and pushed against him, and Harry could do nothing but grab Draco's ass and arch up against him.

It was over in a few breathless minutes, and Draco rolled off Harry, chuckling. "Sheesh, that was just like that other time on this sofa. Worse than teenage virgins."

Pulling out his wand, Harry was chuckling too as he cleaned them up. "Perhaps the sofa is enchanted to make people frot."

Draco yanked a nearby blanket over them, and snuggled against Harry. "Sorry for attacking you like that," he looked up, and then traced his fingers over Harry's light beard. "I blame this. I've been wanting to make out with you since your gala. You look so good."

The comment made Harry feel great. The beard was staying now for sure. But even as he thought that, a niggling thought sprang up. Was he falling already into old patterns? Doing it just to please Draco? He considered it a moment and dismissed it. He liked the beard, it felt like 'him' now.

Draco's eyes met Harry's, and he could see the vulnerability there, the emotions so close to the surface. "After the war, I was a mess. I questioned everything, my whole life up to that point, and I didn't like the answers."

Harry stayed quiet, knowing that Draco usually had high walls up, protecting himself, and felt honoured that he was opening up.

"The brothel, being a dom, taught me about people from many different walks of life. I read and learned everything I could, spent time around muggles in my neighbourhood."

It was the true story of what Draco had done after the war, not the cleared up version he had given for the newspaper article. Harry wanted to know more about this time of his life. "Did you ever work in a cafe with a bookstore beside it?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, when I left England. I stayed with my mother, mostly trying to get over you. When the cottage sold, I suddenly had a chunk of money and no idea what to do. I travelled a little, but settled in Paris. I had my own room above the cafe, and grew to know all the regulars. Many were university students or just avid readers, and all so passionate about debating ideas. I loved it."

Harry could see that spark in Draco, the one that always was there when he talked about books. No wonder he had loved it there. He could picture Draco arguing in perfect French, flirting with well-dressed intellectuals, taking an university student up to his room. He looked down at their linked hands. "It sounds perfect for you."

"The bookstore owner was an older man, and I could tell he would probably accept if I offered to buy the place."

"You had enough money to do that?" Harry asked, knowing how much he had bought the cottage for recently. It hadn't been that much.

Draco shrugged a shoulder. "Buy the business, the books, the name. The premises were rented, so just taking over the lease. My mother came to visit me and I told her all my ideas."

"And?" Harry prompted, his heart beating faster.

"As I explained it all to her, I could see it would be a very good life for me. A fresh start, around exciting people, and many handsome, well-dressed men. Sexy, smart, French-speaking men. Living in one of the most beautiful cities of the world."

Harry felt a bit irked at the comments about the French men, so stayed quiet.

"But it was missing one important thing. You."

Catching Draco's gaze, Harry could only stare. Had he heard that right? "Me?"

With a chuckle, Draco gave him a quick kiss. "Yes, you."

Harry's heart was pounding again.

"Maybe I was a fool, but I came back here with a plan."

"A plan?"

Draco smirked, getting more into his story now. "What had screwed us up before? Not being out, not being an accepted part of wizarding society, right? So, first thing I did was come back and started going out a lot, dating as publicly as you had. Gay and unashamed."

"I noticed," Harry said drily, remembering all those pictures in the Prophet. Seeing Draco looking amazing with hot men all over him.

"Were you jealous? Good," Draco said with a satisfied nod. "How the fuck do you think I felt when I heard you were dating every gay wizard in London when I left?"

Harry simply arched an eyebrow at him. _Touché._

"The next step," Draco said, moving on, "was the interview for the paper. Just owning up to the past and showing that I had learned my lessons. Just wanted people to give me a second chance.

"The real test was when the store opened. Would people forgive my past enough to become paying customers? Luckily, the debates became popular and I got caught up in all that. After years of being reviled, it was amazing to be respected."

Harry chuckled, remembering it. "You were 'cool'. Dressing sexy and going clubbing all night."

Draco shrugged dismissively. "Despite all that going on, I was always watching for you. It was like you had disappeared, no longer dating, not going to charity events. I was hoping to run into you, but had no idea how."

Thinking back on that time, Harry realized it was when he was going to therapy a lot, and not working. "Oh, I, um, kind of dropped out of things for a while there. When I was less busy, it seemed to allow old feelings to bubble up more. I went to a therapist a lot during that time. When I wasn't obsessing over pictures of you in the paper and walking by your bookstore far too often."

"You did?" Draco asked, looking pleased.

Harry sighed. "It was confusing having you back in town, and not contacting me. I thought you weren't interested in me anymore, that you had moved on."

That confession got him a kiss, and Draco grinned. "Me too. It was great getting all that attention from the public, but I missed you."

"Oh, I had no idea," Harry said. How much time had they wasted?

Draco arched an eyebrow. "You didn't? Then why did you come into the bookstore that day?"

Harry could feel his cheeks heat a little. "Um, well, frankly it was early in the day and I didn't think you'd be working the early shift. I popped in to just satisfy my curiosity about the store."

Scoffing, Draco rolled on to his back, looking up at the ceiling. "I took it as a sign you wanted me, forgave me for the crappy way I had left. I felt so relieved that I basically hauled you up to my bed." He seemed a little embarrassed.

Harry cuddled closer, and kissed Draco. "I was hardly resisting, was I?" he said with a bit of a smirk.

"But I feel awful! I took so much for granted!" Draco groaned, covering his face with both hands.

Harry could only grin down at the man fondly. "I have wanted you since I saw you at the brothel. You know that. Maybe even before that."

"Before that?" Draco's hands dropped from his face, his eyes wide.

Harry shrugged a shoulder slightly. "Before I even knew I was gay. At school, I spent half of it obsessed with you. Fighting you, competing, following you around. Always sneaking glances at you at meals. always so aware of you."

"Fuck," Draco groaned, "Me too. and I knew I was gay. Talk about conflicted feelings, seeing you dating Cho and Ginny. Knowing you were straight. probably made me even a worse git to you."

"You had no inkling about me being gay, then? Were you shocked at the brothel?"

Draco shook his head. "Biggest shock of my life. My teenage enemy. Gay and wanting me to punish him."

Harry moaned, feeling aroused at the memories that instantly flashed into his mind. "You were so gorgeous, sexy, but untouchable. I wanted you so fucking much."

"It was a mess. I was acting stupid, treating you way harsher than I should for a new sub, not even discussing what we were doing," Draco said softly, regret clear in his tone. "I think I was trying to scare you away. I didn't want you as a client."

This had Harry propping himself on one elbow to look closely down at Draco. "Why?"

"Because I was confused, conflicted," Draco huffed out a breath. "You stirred up the past I thought was resolved. Made me mad. Horny. I wanted you but was afraid you just wanted me because of our past, or because I was a dom. Not me. And I couldn't have sex with a client anyways."

"Why?" Harry asked, finally getting the answers he had needed for so long.

Draco looked down, not meeting Harry's gaze. "I had been lowered down to being poor, homeless, starving. Almost dying. But I couldn't go as low as to have sex for money, no matter what. Couldn't do it even for you."

Harry could see everything Draco had been through from that. Once one of the richest, a spoiled, pampered brat, Draco had fallen to having nothing. Starving and desperate. But even at his worst, he had held on to that last scrap of his pride. He had not sunk that low.

"I never thought of you that way," Harry said softly. "I just wanted you."

Draco sighed. "I have never been sure why. I thought you could be dealing with the past, or just attracted to my dom persona, or later, to my 'rockstar' image. Wondered if you could you ever like and want the real me."

The pieces were coming together more and more now. Harry took his hand, just wanted to show him support for talking so openly.

"Like when you said you felt dirty from being with me, and then didn't want me at your gala," Draco almost whispered, the words full of pain. "I felt like my work at the brothel had changed how you see me. That I'm not worth more than being your lover. Not someone you proudly show at your side."

Harry's heart clenched at hearing how torn up Draco was. He moved closer, cuddling against his side, and lifting their joined hand to kiss the back of Draco's. "Oh Merlin, it wasn't like that at all for me. I hope these dates have proven it to you. I'm very proud to have you at my side." Their last date, they had been at the auror gala, and Harry had proudly introduced Draco to everyone. They had danced and held hands openly, clearly there together.

Draco nodded slowly. "We both needed these dates, I think. To get over the past, to get to know each other as we are now." He met Harry's eyes, and there was a turbulent mixture of emotions clouding his. "To stop posturing for each other, trying to be what we think the other wants. I finally feel I can just be myself around you. You saw me at my lowest points, and you are still here."

Harry gave him small smile. "You know me better than anyone. I can be the real me with you too. More than with anyone else. You scoff at the image of me as a savior as much as I do."

That made Draco chuckle, and it released some of the tension between them. "Well, you did die and come back to life to defeat ol' Voldy, so I guess you did 'techically' save us all."

It was said dripping with so much sarcasm, Harry could only grin widely down at Draco. "I'll never get a swelled head with you around," Harry replied fondly.

"Really?" Draco reached under blanket, his hand finding Harry's thigh and sliding upwards. "Let's just see about that..."

...

When Harry awoke a few hours later, it was in the new double bed, surrounded by a high quality down comforter, Egyptian cotton sheets and a very cuddly Draco Malfoy. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

He ran a hand over Draco's silky hair, loving the way it fell back into place instead of sticking up stubbornly like his did. His hand went down lazily to the bare skin of Draco's back, just feeling like he'd never get enough of touching this man. He still felt so drawn to him, like he'd never felt with anyone else.

Draco stirred out of his light doze, giving a contented hum as he cuddled closer against Harry.

It was a wonderful sound, but Harry needed a bit more affirmation. "Um, so, you like the cottage then?"

"I love it," Draco mumbled, still sounding sleepy.

"And my hair, the beard?" Harry knew he was perhaps coming across as insecure or needy, but he still had to ask.

Draco shifted upwards on his pillow, giving Harry an exasperated glare. "Sheesh, Potter. Would you shut up and go to sleep? Fine. I love your hair! I love your fucking beard! I love you!"

His mouth snapped shut in shock, and he swallowed hard. "Um, I mean I love, um," he looked around the room desperately, and stared at the discarded clothes on the floor, "your awful khakis."

But the words were already out there, seeming to echo over and over.

Harry rolled on top of Draco, pinning his wrists to the bed, and grinning widely down at him. "You said you love me. Admit it. Come on, Draco."

Draco gave a big sigh, meeting Harry's eyes with a defiant tilt to his chin. "Fine. I love you, Harry Fucking James Fucking Potter."

"And I love you. Draco Lucius Malfoy," Harry said back, meaning every single word.

Draco's stormy grey eyes softened. "I've never said it to anyone else."

Harry shrugged. "I've only said it to Ginny, but I never loved her like this. That was just sweet, teenage love."

"And this is dirty, old man love?" Draco asked dryly.

Harry couldn't resist giving Draco a couple lingering kisses. He loved his snarky comments so much.

When he finally pulled back, his heart was pounding in his chest, almost overwhelmed with feelings just needing to be expressed. "This is, at least on my side, the deepest love I have ever felt, and I never want it to end. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives, if you'll have me."

Draco was simply stunned at the heartfelt words. He blinked at Harry slowly for a couple moments, lost for words. "Did you just propose to me?"

Harry stilled, reviewing what he'd just said. "Um, I guess it depends on how you'd answer. If you'd say no, then I was just joking around," he said with a smile, and then he took Draco's hand. "If you'd say yes, then I was completely serious and we could probably get married in the village tomorrow and make this into a honeymoon."

He dropped down, cuddling against Draco's side, but they were both highly conscious of the unanswered question dangling over them.

Finally, Draco took a deep breath, and turned on his side to face him. "Harry, I just said 'I love you' for the first time, so it's a little fast to be talking about marriage and honeymoons. We have jumped into everything else too quickly and you'd think we would have learned better by now. We barely even met, and we were instant enemies. At the brothel, we jumped right into being dom and sub. At the bookstore, we jumped into being lovers."

"Oh, OK..." Harry said, sighing. Feeling a bit deflated.

Draco squeezed his hand. "I want a good year of just being boyfriends. Getting used to being hopelessly in love and doing disgusting amounts of PDA in front of everyone."

They kissed softly, and Harry was happy to lose himself in it. Draco was sweet and cuddly, and Harry hugged him close. He never thought it could be like this between them. So perfect. So right.

"We could go to Zurich next weekend. Visit my mom. Let her see that her advice worked," Draco said softly as Harry was about to fall asleep.

"Her advice?"

Draco nodded. "She visited me in Paris and I told her about thinking of buying the store there, but still having feelings about you. She's the one who suggested opening the store in London instead and doing everything I could to get you."

Harry groaned. "Two Slytherins plotting against me. It's no wonder I fell so neatly into your little trap."

"Too neatly. We were together, but I could tell it wasn't a true relationship. Even though I've never really been in one."

Stroking Draco's shoulder, Harry thought back on that time in the summer. "I wasn't much better. My therapist says that I don't have proper boundaries and try too hard to please other people. I was going along with everything, happy just to be with you."

"That exactly why I think we need to go slow. We both suck at relationships and talking openly about our feelings. We need time to do this right. You are far too important to me to screw this up." Draco said softly.

Harry chuckled at that. "Oh Merlin, last time you said we should go slow, that meant no sex. Are you going to make me wait a year?"

Draco chuckled. "I said we should be boyfriends, not monks! Let's enjoy this stage and not rush into living together or other stuff."

Harry agreed and they snuggled together for a few sleepy kisses. He couldn't remember ever feeling this happy before.

As Harry drifted off, he remembered the list of things Clementine wanted in a guy. Someone sexy, funny and smart. Confident, but still respectful.

To Harry, Draco was all those things, and so much more.

...

The next morning, Harry woke to the very good feeling of Draco kissing the back of his neck. The previous night rushed back in vivid memories, and he snuggled back against his boyfriend.

The kisses spread out, down his neck and along to his shoulder, making Harry chuckle and roll on to his back, looking up at Draco. He had never seen him looking so happy, and it gave Harry's heart a big squeeze. He brushed back his hair, and pulled him down for a deep kiss.

Draco gave a contented hum, settling between Harry's legs as the kisses intensified. They were still naked, and they rocked together, losing themselves in it.

A few minutes later, Draco was pushing slowly into Harry, their gaze locked on each other. Wanting to fully feel and share it all. It was so different than other times, even yesterday, just being completely open to each other. Vulnerable and trusting. Nothing hidden. Incredibly intimate.

Harry felt like he couldn't get close enough, just wanting everything. He arched up into every thrust, his hands on Draco's ass, pulling him in deep. Moaning at how good it felt.

Draco seemed just as affected, leaning down to kiss Harry often. Panting and speeding up, taking them both where they needed to go, knowing just how Harry liked it. It was like the passionate sex they had during the summer, but with the added depth of their feelings making it so much more intense.

Dropping his head to Harry's shoulder, Draco shook against him, breathlessly gasping "I love you." The words and sensations put Harry over the edge, groaning as he said the words back.

They shared lazy, soft kisses as they got their breath back, still holding each other tight.

Eventually they rolled apart, lying side by side. Draco was holding Harry's hand, rubbing his thumb in small circles over his palm. "You know, we've both had a fair share of people we wanted to sleep with, but there's only one person I ever want to wake up with. You."

Harry was touched, and gave Draco a light kiss. "Was that a proposal?"

"Sheesh, Potter. You already have my body and my heart. Are you so desperate to marry me to get half the bookstore?" Draco teased back.

"Nah," Harry shook his head. "I'll be pretty busy, running the charity and training aurors."

"And being my boyfriend," Draco smirked, before looking at Harry questioningly. "So, you decided to accept Dankworth's offer?"

It had been on Harry's mind a lot since the gala, and he had finally made a decision. "I had to make sure it was something I truly wanted, not doing it just to help others or please her. But I think it will fit into what I want in the future."

"What do you want, Harry Potter?" Draco asked softly.

Looking into those blue-grey eyes, the morning sunlight catching on his eyelashes and the lighter strands in his dark blond hair, Harry felt sure of his answer. "Friends. Family. A job I'm good at and enjoy. Helping others. Eventually marriage and children," Harry said, his heart so full of feelings for this man. "But most of all, you, Draco Malfoy. Sharing our lives, fully and completely."

"I want that too," Draco said softly, leaning in to seal their words with a kiss.

...

-A/N: There! A big love confession, talk it all out chapter! The dam broke & all the words they had been holding back flooded out.

-Thanks for reading this story, which was way longer & twistier (is that a word?) than I initially intended. Hope it was satisfying in the end.

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